"[b]Fair enough.[/b]" [i]A rumbling is heard as he clears his throat, and he begins to sing, his voice melodious and surprisingly adept in its cadence.[/i] "[b]Ohhhhh, old man, Michael Finnigan, He grew whiskers on his chinnigan, The wind blew them off, and they grew thin again, Poor old Michael Finnigan Begin-Again.[/b]" [i]He looked to her.[/i] "[b]Pretty simple, that one. Just repeat, each time you get a bit faster.[/b]" [i]The man tends to speak lightly, sing loudly before the roaring flames. A moment passes, and he prepares the next song.[/i] "[b]Here's a fun one: "In Heaven, there is no beer, That's why we drink it here, And when we're gone from here, All our friends will be drinking all our beer.[/b]" [i]He finishes, turning to her and nodding questioningly, an inquiry as to her judgement on the music.[/i]

[b]As soon as he had stopped, he heard her clapping. She had put the lit roll up in her mouth, letting the smoke leak out the corners of her mouth. She was half-smiling, the other half holding what was presumably some time of marijuana or similar plant. She stood up now, going over to the table. She squealed in delight when she set upon it. The snacks had regenerated, the blood-soaked ones replaced with newer ones. She grabbed a bowl of some type of chip, and walked back over to him. She put the bowl between the two of them, and took the joint from her lips, puffing out some more smoke. It was an impressively long stream this time.[/b] “They redid the snacks! Isn’t that great! Now I can slake my drug-fueled hunger and self-loathing with food instead of more drugs!” [b]She picked up a potato chip, and ate it.[/b]

"[b]Indeed.[/b]" [i]He declined the snacks, preferring instead to hum a merry toon and enjoy the warmth of the flame through his armor and clothing.[/i] "[b]Hmmhmmhmmmmmhmmhmmhmhmhmhmmhmmmm...far over...the Misty Mountains cold....to dungeons deep...and caverns old. We must away....ere break of day...to find our long...forgotten gold...[/b]" [i]Genral continued to hum through the rest of the tune, about three minutes of bass thrumming coming from his chest cavity. Upon finishing, the Initiate looked over to the woman.[/i] "[b]I have a joke for you, my new friend. I must warn you...it is a longer one.[/b]"