I'll tell you a story of whiskey and mystics and men.

[dashboardlite]

Who: Philip, Dean Winchester, and all the Wonderland residents ever
Where: Fifth floor, Room five
When: RIGHT. NOW.
Rating: PG for suggestive themes and the consumption of alcoholic beverages in the presence of minors.
Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. "Desperate measures" meaning ...
The Story:



It is an auspicious night. Your transmitter crackles excitedly, bearing good tidings in the form of Dean Winchester standing proudly in front of a door, Philip LaFresque at his side, expression rather put-upon. Your resident hunter beams.

"Evenin', ladies and gents!"

"Do we have t--"

"Shaddup, Phil. Come one, come al-"

"We've constructed a bar in room five on the fifth floor," Philip interrupts, stepping forward to save the day. "We all know that getting alcohol has never exactly been a problem here, but you also know that everything tastes better when you--"

"Apple-bobbing! Pie-eating contests! Classic rock! Wet t-shirt competition!"

”There is no wet t-shirt competition!”

The feed cuts short in a haze of white noise, but the offer still stands.


[[ ooc note; Both Dean and Philip will be available for separate threads, so you can interact with your friendly and charming bartenders. Please feel free to use the free space below to interact with anyone else in Wonderland's new roadhouse pub gin joint speakeasy whatever! :D You are not obligated to talk to either of the classy fellows behind the counter. ]]

Comments

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Of course Philip could point out that he's been just as guilty in helping Santana get her booze on, but where would be the fun in that?

All right, well, no arguing with that anyway. ]

Were you thinking of something in particular or is it just medicinal alcohol straight up today?

[dashboardlite]

...I got this.

[Dean ducks behind the bar for another glass, selecting a tap and filling it up with delicious, cold, hard cider. He slides it across the counter.

The alcohol content isn't that high, you can't drink it fast, and for girls, it usually tastes better than beer.

Yes, he knows he's smooth.]

Tips go in the jar.

[Cue the Shit-Eating Grin.]

[itsahotone]

[Santana gives them both a look of suspicion before actually taking a sip.]

Good enough. [Her enthusiasm is mind-blowing, isn't it??]

I have plenty of tips, though. You probably don't want them.

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Cider? Dear god, the poor girl. ]

We'd just ruin your lesson plan if we asked you to give them away now.

[ He says it with all the enthusiasm of--

Well, no enthusiasm at all, really.

But let's face it, it's only a matter of time before Santana holds more classes. ]

[dashboardlite]

[Hey, Dean does not want to find out how drunk versions of these teenagers might act.]

I'm gonna pass - classes ain't my thing.

[And they haven't been since he escaped high school. Ah, what freeing days those were. And what a great role model he is now, obviously.]

[itsahotone]

[Santana gives Dean a look.]

You were part of the first one.

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Philip holds that look and raises his own. ]

I'd ask what I missed, but I probably don't want to know.

[dashboardlite]

...I'm gonna be honest, I don't remember the details.

[Then again, when has he ever been good at that?]

[itsahotone]

Too bad. It was pretty fun.

[Sip sip.]

So. Were you guys drunk when you came up with this idea?