She swills back the last of her brew and slides the bottle over to the barman once he's delivered Grace's. He's afforded a nice view of her cleavage during the process, so he can't be blamed for taking his eyes off Grace and promptly attending to the other blonde. Or maybe he's just a good bartender who doesn't like to leave a customer waiting.
"I was just... displaced," the Fable tries to explain. "One moment I was walking through the farm yard, and the next I was on the shoulder of I-80 in Eastern Iowa. Flash, bang, thank you mam."
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She swills back the last of her brew and slides the bottle over to the barman once he's delivered Grace's. He's afforded a nice view of her cleavage during the process, so he can't be blamed for taking his eyes off Grace and promptly attending to the other blonde. Or maybe he's just a good bartender who doesn't like to leave a customer waiting.
"I was just... displaced," the Fable tries to explain. "One moment I was walking through the farm yard, and the next I was on the shoulder of I-80 in Eastern Iowa. Flash, bang, thank you mam."