At work again, it's getting on near closing time. Kyle sits across from me. His bourbon is good, mine, bad. Have you ever met a man in whom there was no guile? I think of Kyle. Kyle the Pure. Kyle of the Noble Heart. Ah, strange out-of-place White Rider, too late, too late for your kind! Ah, Modernity, do you still spawn men of these sort only just to ruin them? What place have they here? I will toast you, Kind Knight, and you (as a concession to be sure) toast me.
I should mention that the lady has purchased me a bottle of Bullet. A great test of self-control now lies before me.
Oh, and I was thinking, by the way, that finding Jim Beam in your glass is like being asked to the dance by one of the larger and more acne-prone young ladies. It is not ideal, no, but at least someone took interest in you. Yes, Beam gives me that same sensation.
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