Simon poured out a drink, looking up from the TV to eye Concordia suspiciously, his vision narrowing.
"I've'ad twelve pints, a shot of this "Jagermeister", 'alf a bo'le of scotch and a quarter keg. I swear t'god when I sober up on the...day...after today, you're on."
The TV suddenly roared, drawing O'Hare's attention with a snap. Newcastle booted a goal home, narrowly skimming along the edge of the goalkeeper's fingertips before swishing neatly into the net. The miner threw himself up, arms following suit as he screamed "UP UNITED!", somewhat forgetting the girl was there.
This drew Dwight's attention, causing the stoner to amble on over. As he arrived, he merely grinned and bobbed his head, offering the blunt to the woman first, followed by the two men.
"Lot a'new lasses in 'ere..." Simon noted, his attention returning from the swamp of alcohol addlement. "Kinda' lass is you love? A dancer apparently, even if mis'a Gallia 'ere ain't."
The Molly pile of muscle dragged over a keg and tore out a couch cushion before plopping it atop the keg, leaving a seat for the interloper to sit down on.