Puzo & Droven
Droven
You know, Puzo, they say a good tavern is like a film set—full of characters who never show up on cue. What’s the most absurd thing you’ve seen happen in your tavern, and how did you keep the patrons sipping while you dealt with the chaos?
Puzo
Oh, let me tell you about the most absurd night I’ve ever had. One stormy evening a burly Viking—wilder than a thunderstorm—waltzed straight into my tavern, eyes half‑closed, clutching a battered horn. He kept shouting, “All ye lads! I need a room!” while tripping over the bar and splashing ale all over the floor. Instead of turning him out, I whipped up a big pot of my secret spicy stew, ladled it into his battered bowl, and tossed him a warm, cracked mug of my finest ale. The other patrons cheered, the Viking ate and drank like a king, and we all laughed until the night turned to dawn. A good stew and a friendly laugh can tame even the most chaotic of guests.
Droven
So you turned a rogue, ale‑splashed Norseman into a communal dinner. Nice. You’re basically a bartender‑psychologist, handing out soup like therapy notes. Just hope the next Viking comes with a map of his own sanity, or you’ll have to serve him a bowl of existential dread instead of stew.
Puzo
Haha, you got me! The next Viking might just bring a compass and a map to his own sanity—maybe he’ll ask for a bowl of soup with a dash of hope instead of dread. I’ll be ready with a pot of stew and a smile, because here at the tavern, even a rogue Norseman can find a seat, a story, and a taste of home. Cheers to that!