Shade and One-Eyed Jack stood in the Total Wine, which was getting ready to close soon.
“I appreciate this,” One-Eyed Jack said, standing there wearing an eyepatch, a bandana, and slops. “People always just assume I like Johnnie Walker because of my pirate aesthetic. And it’s alright, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve been hoping to get a taste of this weird thing I tried back in Mexico. Hope they have it.”
This particular Total Wine, like many Total Wines, was a veritable stockpile of booze. Rows and columns of multi-tiered shelves. You had your beers and your wines and your liquors and your liqueurs — all the standards, but also some weird stuff, like Laphroaig and Bacon Vodka.
“They’ll have it,” Shade said. “What’s it called again?”
“Ancho Reyes.”
“Tell me a bit about the buyer while we look.”
“Alright,” One-Eyed Jack said. “I don’t have the name, but he looked real weird. His right eye was blue, the other red. The right side of his body looked icey, while the left simmered with a low flame. Shouldn’t be hard to find him.”
“We’re going to have a harder time finding you this drink,” she said. “Seriously, after a shot or two, does it matter what you’re drinking?”
MEGAPULP 