The Photojournalist snatches the bottle with a grin; success!
"You're a nice guy, you know that? Man, the last guy I ran into... Heh, it's funny, he said he could crush my skull and feed me the fluid from my brain. So that's wasn't... That wasn't very cool." He gets quiet for a moment, eyes distant. Someone else had said the same thing to him once, or close enough that the echo crawls his spine, his guts.
He shakes his head, then opens the bottle and takes a long drink. "That's good shit. I can feel it already. Ummm, beer's a real gift from the gods. And you're a good guy."
This may or may not be a mistake, but in the spirit of the beer, The Photojournalist approaches the unknown dude. "You want a drink?" He's going to sit down next to the generous spirit if he can.
no subject
"You're a nice guy, you know that? Man, the last guy I ran into... Heh, it's funny, he said he could crush my skull and feed me the fluid from my brain. So that's wasn't... That wasn't very cool." He gets quiet for a moment, eyes distant. Someone else had said the same thing to him once, or close enough that the echo crawls his spine, his guts.
He shakes his head, then opens the bottle and takes a long drink. "That's good shit. I can feel it already. Ummm, beer's a real gift from the gods. And you're a good guy."
This may or may not be a mistake, but in the spirit of the beer, The Photojournalist approaches the unknown dude. "You want a drink?" He's going to sit down next to the generous spirit if he can.