Franz Marc Zwei Katzen

Franz Marc Zwei KatzenFranz Marc yellow cowFranz Marc Tiger
could feel the pure gold sweating gently out of that ancient woodwork.
With some care he took a small glass from his store under the counter and let a few splashes of the dark golden liquid escape from the tap. He looked at it thoughtfully in the lamplight,
turned the He gave up.
"Bharrgsh nargh!"
His wife snorted and took the glass out of his unprotesting hand. She sniffed it. She looked at the barrels, all ten of them. She met his unsteady eye. In a private paradise for two they soundlessly glass around methodically, sniffed it a few times, and tossed its contents back in one swallow. His face remained unchanged, although his eyes went moist and his throat wobbled somewhat. His wife and Esk watched him as a thin beading of sweat broke out on his forehead. Ten seconds passed, and he was obviously out to break some heroic record. There may have been steam curling out of his ears, but that could have been a rumour. His fingers drummed a strange tattoo on the bartop. At last he swallowed, appeared to reach a decision, turned solemnly to Esk, and said, "Hwarl,ish finish saaarghs ishghs oorgsh?" His brow wrinkled as he ran the sentence past his mind again and made a second attempt. "Aargh argh shaah gok?"