The door to the bar slid open, accompanied by a wave of thick grey smoke and a silhouetted figure. As the smog rolled into and filled the bar's roof, the figure was revealed to be a black man of about 30, holding a boom box on one shoulder blasting some phat and ((consider this your disclaimer)) explicit beats, and a ridiculously thick blunt in his spare hand. His eyes were squinted, and he had a massive grin over his features before he stepped over the threshold and threw his hands in the air.
"Yo dawgs! Le's get dis party staaaarted aheheh". He meandered over, throwing a glance at Enrico and Jeremy as he passed to the bar, going to order a drink before going to mingle with the nearest bloke with a drink of their own.
Down by the TV, the miner rolled his eyes, before beckoning over the Gallian.
"C'mon maaaate, c'mave a few drinks n'watch th'game, else 'at new prat's gonna 'get all up in your grill' or whatever th'eck they say."