Bartholemew looks at the man with the amazingly expressive eyes. He bats his own a few times, pounds an large glass of Hard Whiskey, and rises to his feet- sauntering towards being identified as Spirit- but then he pauses mid action, shrugs, and looks back to Haley. "Right. So. Where were we before the Bikers Interup- Ah. Yes. Working together for the common good and all that." He begins- as he drops himself in to a seat next to her own, yawns and stretches loudly- and tosses back another glass of alchohol down his throat. "Don't worry about me being Drunk. My Physiology is very fun in that regard, in that I can drink quite a bit without feeling anything unless I want to- and right now, I do not want to be drunk, as I wish to talk. If I wished to be drunk, I would have ordered a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster- as you can see, I did not do so."<br/><br/>He smiles winningly, flashing fanged teeth. "Alright. So. First things first. Operation Midnight. They've got to go- all of em. Right? Right. Okay, sound's good to me. How about we start by finding out /what/ exactly /is/ left over from that particular group, and go from there? Savvy? Savvy. Good. Alright- but in the meantime, we will need a way to pay the bills, until such time as we find the location of said group- henceforth and thusly, why not engage in Mercenary Monster Hunting until such time as we have ascertained the actual locations and identities of our enemies- unless, of course, you already fully possess said lore and knowledge, in which case henceforth verily it would be a good idea to act on said information, posthaste. What say you, my friend?" he finishes, as he knocks back a fourth Whiskey, grins wider, and leans on the bar.