Better than expected!

The strangers glanced up at D as she approached, but she walked right past them to a vintage beer sign on the wall next to their table. She grabbed Brad by the shoulders and positioned him in front of it so that he was looking at himself.

"Come on, dude," she said. "You really don't see it at all?"

He blinked with surprise. Follow her lead. "I'm sorry, I just can't see it," he said apologetically. Their targets had stopped talking and were watching this interchange.

"I mean, it's right there!" she protested. Her eyes fell on the closer of the two women, a cute brunette in a tank top and jeans with piercing blue eyes. "Hey, can you help us settle something? It won't take long."

The women glanced at each other and the brunette stood up hesitantly. "Uh, sure. What's going on?"

She turned Brad to face the women. "I bet him a round of drinks that I could convince him he looks just like Christian Bale. I think he's just pretending not to be convinced for the free drinks."

The woman studied him for a second and shrugged. "Sorry, I agree with him. You're a good-looking guy, but you're not Batman."

"What?" D exclaimed, and gestured to the other woman. "What about you?"

Her friend agreed and D scoffed. "So none of you think he looks even a little like Christian Bale?"

Brad grinned. "Sorry, D. Time to pay up. In fact, I think since you dragged them into it, you should buy us all a round."

D looked aghast. "What? When did this become a party game?"

Brad waved a hand dismissively. "Just go get the drinks. What are you ladies drinking?"

The women placed their orders and D stormed off, still fuming, while Brad introduced himself.

"Mel," the first one they spoke to said as she shook his hand. The second, a tall, slim redhead in denim shorts and a band t-shirt, introduced herself as Gabby.

"Here you go, you fucking cheaters," D said as she came back with two drinks in each hand. Their new friends introduced themselves to her and asked her name.

"It's Daphne, but I go by D," she explained after taking a large sip of whiskey. "This dickhead thinks it's funny to call me Daffy."

"It is funny," Brad insisted. He was feeling buzzed and pleasant, the slow drip of whiskey gradually loosening him up. "...Daffy."

The group laughed and D punched his arm again in a slightly different spot; Brad didn't even wince. Mel leaned forward and smiled.

"So are you two, like, together...?"

With just enough disappointment in her face to hint that it wasn't her choice, D denied it. "We've been friends since we were kids. I keep telling him if he doesn't find someone to settle down with soon I'm gonna make him marry me."

Brad laughed boisterously and slapped her back. "Well, we fucked a couple of times. Apparently Daffy got addicted."

Now D turned crimson, but the women they were speaking to both laughed. The waiter came by and Brad ordered another round; he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was getting drunk, but he didn't care. He clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

"Enough talk," he said. "Let's play some fuckin' pinball."