[center][h3][color=tan]Courier 6[/color][/h3]
[b]Level 5[/b] - (28/50) EXP (+1)
[b]Location:[/b] Grillby's
[b]Word Count:[/b] Not enough to bother with counting[/center]

The Courier stopped in the entryway of Grillby's to take in the small eatery around him and took a deep breath, almost snorting the air. The atmosphere reminded him of some of the smaller bars and diners back in the Mojave, even if the aesthetics weren't exactly spot on. First his eyes laid upon the bartender, another robot but of different design to the bird one outside, as it seemed to be exuding flames from all around it. An interesting design, he wondered how it generated this fire? Surely it had to have a very efficient fuel source. Next his eyes fell upon the armadillo man standing upon two legs. Now this was an hombre he could get on with, another man of the road with Western sensibilities. A cowboy, er, cowarmadillo? Weird, but hardly the strangest thing he'd seen in this new world. 

The Courier was about to approach the armadillo when the largest sight in the whole place practically smacked him in the face: a large number of dog-like creatures sitting at a table, playing poker. Slowly his eyes opened wide, his grin spread across his entire face. Oh yes. [i]Oh yes.[/i]

[color=tan]"Deal me in, hombres,"[/color] he said, taking a seat between masked dog and the abomination looking dog. He placed his hat on the table, minding his manners, and looked at the pot. It didn't matter what was being bet honestly, he'd look to match it if he could. [color=tan]"Bartender! Whiskey me. I'm aiming to take the whole pot."[/color]