"Why I swear, you talk so pretty I'm sure you could sell Ice to an Eskimo. As for the cattle... Well even bad men love their mommas. The dark haired chick behind the counter is absolutely lovely. Besides how many of us are there? Couple million maybe? Say its a couple hundred million? It doesn't matter we all die the same, bullet to the brain kills us all in the end. At the end of the day I just really fucking hate bullys." He put his hands up in the one filled with the neck of Pappy Van Winkle. 

Eli placed a the bottle of Bourbon on the table as the dark haired girl came up still slightly terrified. "H-hello Mr. Craig. Can I get you something?" She asked in a tepid voice, hints of fear as she spoke.

"Mr. Craig she says, I'm damn near insulted, and here I thought we were friends. I'd like whatever you personally recommend and a cup of your finest speciality drink but first, You'd be forever in my favor if you would bring us two mugs." Quick as a flash she was back with two empty and clean mugs. Just as quick she was gone again. It was almost like her rushing would less his wrath or whatever.

"Care for drink?" Eli asked pouring himself one. "Pappy van Winkle aged twenty three years. Even for men like us shit is rare as a whore in church house."