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Seeing some of the others up and moving about in search of coffee, or perhaps food - brought her rumbling stomach to her attention. She hadn't eaten since she left; not trusting airplane food. Blech.
"May I have a glass of orange juice, a glass of apple juice - cranberry if you don't. A glass of water, and an apple or banana if you have one perhaps?" She asks the man behind the bar.
She eyes the naked man, and the sneaking dwarf responsible who'd just dumped ice on another victim. The victim seemed to be in a frozen state; perhaps going over the possible reactions in his head?
"Uh, bartender; have any spare clothes or perhaps rope back there?"
I'm sure someone could make a skirt for the naked man out of the bar towels. I thought I saw a pom-pom under one of the tables, perhaps they could add a little fringe to it? Or he could be a scantily clad one-pom cheerleader.
Carrying her fare back to the table, she sips as she listens to the rules of the card game.
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But I was clinging to her like a homicidal monkey.
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