Walking into the bar, after an extremely long absence Joe frowns at the spammy opportunists. Nodding to the legitimate few that were left, he grabs hold of something secure while gesturing towards them to do the same. A slight hiss is then heard, before quickly increasing in intensity to a deafening roar. Loose papers and glasses fly across the room, before being accompanied by ever increasingly larger objects. Being lifted off his feet, Joe holds on for dear life with the legitimate few as the spammers are sucked out into the vacuum of space. Not long after, the airlock closes as the room becomes eerily quite, save for those that were left groaning. Popping his ears, Joe then dusts off his seat at the bar before sitting down.
“Aldebaran Whiskey, on the rocks…”
