After a moment more of sitting and browsing, Eighty was feeling like another drink was in order. He messaged someone else on his phone before he stood up.

[i]May be getting drunk tonight. Message you again if I don't hold up well enough.[/i]

He approached the counter once again as a couple women - and one child, evidently - were gabbing. He knocked for the bartender again, who approached him, asking "What now?"

"'Nother round, please." Eighty replied.

"I thought you said one?"

"'Or two', mate? Christ, use your 'ead."

The bartender leaned forward towards Eighty, looking rather serious now. "Okay." He said, "You don't get to come in here all these times and talk to me like that, expecting I'll just let it slide and keep serving you anything. Because frankly? I don't enjoy wasting my stock on normies."

There was a bit of a pause before Eighty quietly replied, "I'm not your average normie mate. We've established that. My money's as good as the rest o' these peoples'. Now I'm still behavin', so [i]please[/i], one more of my usual."

The two glared at each other for another moment before the reluctant exchange was made. Eighty turned with his second lager in hand, heading back to his claimed booth, passing by a table with one man and one woman talking to each other.

Wondered what all these people were, in their true forms.