Gera actually wasn't that surprised that Ezra knew of a seedy bar. What surprised him, was how friendly and jolly the regulars could be.

When the two friends entered the bar, Ezr ordered a drink right away. He downed it in one shot. Gera stared at him.

"Uh…something wrong, Ezra," asked Gera. Ezra shook his head.

"Why would it be?" He ordered another drink and drank it a bit more slowly. Only three gulps. He ordered a third.

"Ezra, are you sure you're okay," Gera asked.

"I'm ffffine, okay,' snapped Ezra, his speech already beginning to slur. He took a draft. "Something just happened today that pissed me off, alright? I'm drinking it off. Perfectly natural." Ezra's voice shook with anger. Gera decided not to touch it. But he needn't bother. After a few more drinks (more like a lot more), EVERYONE knew what the problem was.

"I'm 'er 'usband, damn it! She schood spen' 'ore time wif me, ri? I meeeen, ish, dat too mush to ashk for?" Ezra was sitting at the bar, his arms hunched on it, with his head down. He dragged a finger through a pool of beer, looking like he was going to cry. He suddenly jerked up and pounded his fist on the counter. "I deserve to be apprishiated by 'er! I do shit for 'er mos 'usbands wouldn't even think 'bout doing. You know what I mean, boyzzz?" Some of the men just nodded, amusing the drunk.

Ezra sloppily drank another mug of spirits. He slammed it on the counter. A man bumped into him. Ezra rounded on the man. He took him by the collar and looked like his was going to punch him. Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears as he pleaded his case.

"I don' understand why she won look at me anymore. Schometimes, I don't think sheee loves me at all." He started to bawl into the guy's shirt and blew his nose into it. The man looked disdainfully at him.

"Okay, question time," Gera said. "How many of you actually want Ezra to remember this tomorrow?" Every hand went in the air. "Okay. How many of you think he actually will remember this tomorrow?" Every hand went down. "Nice to know to know Ezra has such caring friends." The men chortled and watched as Ezra got up on the table with yet another mug of beer.

"You all wanna know 'ow we two met? She 'ointed a blaster on me. 'Ow mush 'an she love me if she did dat? Seriously." He held the mug close to his face, like it was a stuffed animal he was hugging. "But, she was so preeetty with dat gun and da orange "an blue 'air. Why did she eva change it?" Ezra began to bawl his eyes out again as he took a drink.

Gera snatched the mug from his hand.

"Okay, I think that's quite enough drinking."

"Aw, come on, man, I'm not even drunk," Ezra practically yelled at Gera. He was very loud.

"How many fingers do you see?"

"Fifteen!"

"Yeah, I'm taking you home." Gera went to grab Ezra by the arm, but he ducked out of his reach.

"Hey, Gera, I betcha tweny credits, that 'oo ca'n tossh me throoo a window, an' I'll be fine."

"And now we are really going." Gera snatched Ezra by his leather vest and dragged him out of the bar.

"W-wait-te par'y isht jus' star'ing!"

"Nope. You're going home to your wife."

"Aw, fuck…my wife. You know, man, I think I'm drunk. Sabine's gonna be pisshed about that."