The mineral 'android' focused its lens on the bartender with curious skin and even more curious hair, waiting for its companion to answer. When the answer didn't come, "G' patted the seemingly stunned Dirke on the back of the head lightly with its still intact hand.<br/>"Huh? What? Where..." the purple alien blinked a few times, the orange iris losing focus for a couple of seconds. "Oh, damn. The wound must have been deeper than I thought..." The smile had been reattached to his lips once again, befuddled look disappearing from his face entirely. "Sorry about that. What's the drink in your menu with most sugar in it? Doesn't have to be alcoholic, though it would be a welcome bonus. Have to give my organism some fuel to speed up the healing process. Don't really like going into 'standby' mode in the middle of a conversation. What about you, G? want anything?"<br/>The droid's lens was expresionless but his stance conveyed perfectly how idiotic it believed that question was.<br/>"Right, right, no face holes to consume beverages..." Dirke chuckled and turned back to the bartender "I don't suppose you got any galvanised, shiny rocks behind that counter, eh?"<br/><br/>Dirke let out an amused sound after hearing the interrupted comment of the android besides the human-ish bar worker.<br/>"Well.... What you said wasn't<i>in</i>accurate, I suppose. I mean, look at my clothes!" he pointed to the now torn and burnt jacket made of silkish, dark red material, showing a dirty, used-to-be-white shirt underneath, both soaked in a purplish substance. "My poor jacket... Cost me a good amount of credits, too! Well, at least it taught me not to dress too sharp for negotiations with your competitors, eh, G? That and bring a bit more heat than two, cheap pocket laser psitols. Let me tell you, once I-" he stopped mid-sentence when the Mrinka landed gracefully behind the counter. He joined in with the applause, maybe a bit<i>too</i>enthusiastically. "Reminds you of them Sector-Z assassins, eh, G?" he poked the android and raised his brow. "Cold, cruel bastards but they could fit in a ten-by-ten centimeter air vents. Never liked dealing with them. They always had a stick so far up their arse you could see the tip when they'd talk. Though it does make their contorting skills even more impressive."