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Revees put his hands on his head.
"erm... er... Barkeep! Three Black Brew's please! and be quick!"
The barkeep places three Black Brews on the table
"6C please", he mumbled.
Reeves gave the barkeep the money and handed out the other two brews.
"Now can we try and get along, remember if we are to stay alive, we need to stick together and find a damn pilot. Now I ask again, has anyone talked to that guy overthere?" Reeves points over the the corner where a lone man sits and quitley consums his drink.
[ 10-10-2002, 06:11 PM: Message edited by: Deathbringer ]
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