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drfeelbadHouse was having a rough day. Not only had one of the poison antidotes he'd been working on turned out to be a dismal failure this morning (just ask the dead squirrel he'd been using as a test subject), but also his leg fucking hurt.
He was considering going to Hannibal's. A massage and an orgasm might do him wonders. But first he decided he just needed a decent meal and a drink. A drink or five. So he went to Hex's inn and sat at the bar, digging into a meat pie while a glass with two fingers of whiskey in it sat beside him.
His cane was leaning against the bar beside him, but someone bumped it and it clattered to the floor loudly. He sighed and started to bend over to pick it up.
He was considering going to Hannibal's. A massage and an orgasm might do him wonders. But first he decided he just needed a decent meal and a drink. A drink or five. So he went to Hex's inn and sat at the bar, digging into a meat pie while a glass with two fingers of whiskey in it sat beside him.
His cane was leaning against the bar beside him, but someone bumped it and it clattered to the floor loudly. He sighed and started to bend over to pick it up.
