Roach leaned against the counter as he spoke to the bartender. He absentmindedly twirled a coin between his fingers, and when asked what drinks he wanted, he responded with "I'm gunna need 'bout..." He paused and turned back to count the number of people waiting for their free drinks. "...Six pints, same as me last one." Once the drinks were done being prepared, Roach would take them, leaving the necessary cash on the table, and a parting word of "Thanks heaps, and sorry 'bout wavin' me knife 'round. Shouldn't happen 'gain." With that, he turned and carried the drinks to the table, a small cheer coming from the crowd as he passed them out. After he himself had sat down with his drink, he looked to the group of people sitting around him and asked "Now, who wants ta hear me story 'bout the time I spent two weeks in the Sahara?" The crowd, a bit more engaged now that they'd been given drinks, gave their permission, and Roach carried on into a long tale about camels, dehydration, a fistfight over an oasis, and a mirage that looked a "Shelia's Mappa Tassie", whatever that meant.