Roach had been spending the last hour or so in the [i]biergarten[/i], sipping away at a drink, and sharing stories to whoever was around to listen. His gasmask hang loose around his neck, and his odd hat drew as much attention as always. He had a small crowd of three or four people sitting with him, they were listening carefully to his stories, but Oscar was sure they were all more interested in just hearing the Aussie Madman speak. "An' I tell ya, I must've 'ad ten pints of the Amber already, then this dag bastard comes up ta me an' says "Ey ya damn Feral! How's about we go an' hit the Turps." Well, I ain't one ta turn down a challenge, so I go with 'im an' the next thing I know, I'm wakin' up out in the bush, no shirt, half a bottle o' grog in one 'and, an' this here knife in the other!" With that, he drew Blackout, his personal survival knife, from its sheath, and waved it a bit. "An' that's how she got 'er name! Called 'er Blackout, cause I got 'er while I was blackout pissed!" From there, Oscar busted out laughing, causing a few in the group to chuckle nervously as well. Oscar took a large swig of his beer, but almost spit it out after what happened.

[h1][b][i]KRAAAK![/i][/b][/h1]

A gun shot audible even inside the [i]biergarten[/i] rang out, and Roach instinctively reached for his pistol. When he realized there wasn't much to worry about, he relaxed, and went back to his drink. Looking to the group of people in front of him, he chuckled and said "Well, I'm sure it's nothin' ta worry about. How's about we order us 'nother shout? I'll pay." With that, a couple more people shifted over, more eager to partake in free drinks than the stories, and Oscar stood up and waltzed over to the counter, making the request for another round of drinks.