"What you're about to try and pull off is going to be a bit difficult," spoke the bartender to Dave.
Dave became a bit perplexed. He hadn't said a single word, apart from ordering a drink, so he didn't understand how the bartender might possibly know what Dave was going to be doing soon. Before he could inquire, the bartender changed shape, from a grisly looking old man, to a teenager with a Mohawk and an electric guitar strapped to his back.
Dave gave him a wry smile. Was the Undeath God so bored as to come to serve drinks for others?
"When was the stuff I ever did for you not difficult?" he retorted.
