(her legs squeezes the leader a little bit more, attempts to get herself to climb him higher and tilt her head to look at him.)

If you're good, next time, I'll let you fire Fishbones, if I'm in a good mood, too.

(she taps her glass, unspoken request for it to be filled.)

We're thinking of opening a bar-slash-nightclub. Do you have those here? You don't, right?