Bartholemew Screeches up to the bar, wildly chuckling as he hops off his bike, put's up the Kickstand, and walks in. He see's the Madman with the big sword threatening his newly-aquired comrades, and whistles. "Wellll Shit. You look /PISSED/!" he says, as he strides in- coat rippling in the air dramaticaly, his stride declaring ownership of the ground he walks upon. A Smirk plasters itself on his face, as he strides up behind the berserker- the right past him to sit his ass down next to Haley, and look to the Barkeep.<br/><br/>The Barkeep is himself a huge, burly, biker- and likely one of the few men who didn't flee the premise, as Bart smiles and starts to order a drink.<br/><br/>Even as his sword telepathically facepalms over the ignoring of an obvious threat, and Bart grins. "So make that Rum- heavy stuff, to."<br/><br/>"Ayep. You gon' take care of that bastard running of my Business, or..?"<br/><br/>"Man, he'll take care of himself.."