Anthony stood staring at the sign in front of him. 'Lost Souls Cafe, huh?' He thought to himself. He pulled the half smoked cigar out of his mouth and extinguished it on the back of his hand; he jammed it in his pocket. There were burn marks from where he had done this a thousand times before. It seemed his whole personal motto was based off of pain, and how he enjoyed it. Figuring he had no where else to go, he opened the door and stepped into the cafe. A new set of smells, sounds, and colors assaulted him. He could barely make out the figures in the dimly lit building. He automatically adjusted for this, and the room became clear. His nose tickled with the smell of alcohol, coffee, and sweat. The place didn't appear to have air conditioning. He could hear whispered remarks coming from the corners of the room and it sounded like he had walked into band practice. The chime of the registrar took him out of his daze. He walked over to the bar and ran his hands down the smooth wood. It felt good under his hands. It had been a long time since he had been in a bar, and he was going to make full use of it. The bartender walked up and asked him what he wanted. "I'll start off with two shots. The first one whiskey, straight up, the second one, a Scooby Snack. And as soon as I have finished those up, I want you to bring me a Malibu and Coke." His voice was strong, yet subtle, almost as if he had learned long ago what it meant to be a gentleman. He scratched his black goatee and looked around the room for someone to chat with.