"Excellent!" Aarien said happily. She opened the door to the room behind the bar and shared her overly-bright smile with Rivgo. "Riv, be a love and fry us a couple of squirrels, would you? We'll have the barbeque dipping sauce."
She returned to her spot behind the bar and gave the Purple an assessing sip. Seemed fine. Might turn out to be a "then I stood up and those weren't my legs any more", but only time and further imbibing would tell. "We breed the squirrels on the premises," she said conversationally. "But they're free-range. So you might want to watch out for that. Usually after people have had one or two run-ins with the squirrels, they're much happier to eat them."
At that point, Rivgo brought the squirrels out of the back room, golden-brown, hot and crisp, bushy-tailed, and very much on a stick. Aarien took hers with a nod of thanks, dipped it into the sauce, and set about devouring it with crunchy enthusiasm. "Mm, hot!"
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