Belly up to the bar, Drinks are on me!

*Praxilla’s ears bleed. She notices _someone_ has cranked up that darn singing machine of torture. She further notices Lars is busy somewhere else. Gripped by the human trait of feeling a little nuts, it’s coming up on a full moon, she grabs the titanium darts from the dart board and takes out the karaoke machine*

*pop*

*fizz*

*with a nod and a smile she turns to the bar*
April 7th I have to put up with a state sponsored propaganda musical fest other wise known as a school music program. No reason to start the torture early.

A Kamikazee please. [img]images/smiles/icon_smile.gif[/img]