Hammond wandered aimlessly at the ball until he happened to wander near the band playing music.  The nearest musician flinched and edged away, trying not to let his anxiety interfere with his playing, while several of the ball attendees nearby stood up from their seats.  Hammond looked over at them, blinking, noticing some of them with balled up fists.  Hammond put his hands up to calm the situation, "Relax. I wouldn't play for you ungrateful lot."  The attendees sat back down.  Having defused the situation, Hammond was anxious to leave behind the awkwardness and headed in a random direction, finding his way to the bar.

"Pick your poison," the bartender said.

Hammond stiffened.  "I am in the business of administering poison, not imbibing it," Hammond said shortly, "Poison is fit only for vermin."

"Well, someone once said that all things are poisons in the right amount," the bartender said with a chuckle.

"...smartass..." Hammond muttered as he headed away from the bar.  He glanced at his watch, wondering how early he could leave without seeming rude, though people would probably think him rude regardless if he left early or late.  In his preoccupation he walks head first into the Bunny Man.  Blinking to reorient himself, he looks at the people gathered, noticing in particular, Benjamin the Bunny Man and Lola the Easter Bunny.

"What do we have here?  A rodent infestation?" Hammond notices Booker out of the corner of his eye and wonders why a monster fable has a better reputation than himself.