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The crew was lively but not alive, filled with temporary, short-lived plans with no current, demanding aspirations. Two of the team left for the ship, and the three others were suit to follow. Three, because Deevee was still solving a mystery - one far more important returning to the safe confines of the Absolute Magnitude. One that prompted the need for Quayhoggr to launch himself from his seat, drive himself up and atop one of the pool tables, interrupting a game between two burly, unkindly men, immediately cuing in several phrases of "what the fuck". 

He had to move. He had to sort through the ocean of knowledge he had in his mind like it was tangible, as if it were truly a library in front of him in the open air and he had to shuffle through the stacked books everywhere to see if it was there. 

Quayhoggr, in a Mars-accented English, spoke under his breath.

"Has it been done before?"

He pondered, panicking, as he narrowly dodged the vice-like grip of one of the players. Deevee then delivered a laugh so deep and maniacal from the bowels of his diaphragm, fighting the air and seeking anyone with good audition to pay attention. If it were an online text, it would be "mwuahahahahahha". Strange that Deevee would even think of that.

Suddenly, a burst of French, directed at the bartender: [i]“Life is great. Cheese makes it better.”[/i] He jumped over to the next pool table, a way's away but narrowly landing on it without busting his ass. 

"Gouda, Camembert, Monterey Jack, Brin D'Amour, Oxford Blue! Then we have Port Wine Derby Cheese! Cahill's Irish Porter Cheddar Cheese! Walnut Liquor Timanoix Cheese! Cheese has come and will come in many fantastic flavours, textures, and even colours!" 

Deevee grabbed a pool cue from the metal brackets, belly-side of the pool table. "You," he pointed the end at the bartender and proclaimed his next few words with the gravity of a summons, "shall herald a new beginning, a new frontier, a new synthesis of Southern Martian cheese so eclectically delicious it will make you a fortune! Mix your inventory and pour the milk into your cups!" 

At this point, bouncers were on their way to relieve the mad man of his 15 minutes of fame, but Deevee was not done delivering his speech. Whilst talking, he began swatting his pool cue around. 

"For cheese is a solid block that had united the tongues of nations to strengthen trade, political ties, historical bonds, cultural amalgamations! You will make this cheese, and we will return for us to sample them!" 

His cue had stopped swinging, caught in the hands of one of the bouncers, and the bouncer yanked the cue from Deevee's hand, bringing the cheese connoisseur down with it, slamming down to the wooden, stained-with-whatever floors of the bar.