13473/What's Opera Doc

What's Opera Doc
Date of Scene:	30 November 2022
Location:	The Sing Sing Karaoke Bar
Synopsis:	Brunnhilde explains to a barfly that she is not, in fact, a golden age cartoon character.
Cast of Characters:	Mary Jane Watson, Brunnhilde

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Mary Jane Watson has posed:
It's a quiet night in a karaoke bar. There aren't that many people there due to the unseasonably warm weather. People are spending time outside. It's the start of the week, and no one is up for any sort of drinking. The World Cup isn't an American thing, and so it's toolate to get into heavy alcoholics for games over hours ago. So, that just leaves a mostly listless bar, a few people spread about drinking. So to drum things up a very, very bad idea has been done.
    Namely 'half off liquer'. OF everything. On the menu.

Brunnhilde has posed:
And this is exactly when the wallet-strapped make their moves, but Brunnhilde's sense for more easily flowing booze is preternatural.  It's been a while since Brunnhilde made her way around to this bar.  Years maybe.

When Brunnhilde sees the sparse advertisement for 'half off' it seems more like a confirmation for the woman.  She moves directly for the bar, easing into a seat that protests under her mysterious density.

"Is this for real? or is it like half watered down cocktails?" she asks whoever may or may not be at the bar.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The man sitting in the stool next to her goes and hiccups, "It's the real shtuff." There are a variety of shot glasses in front of him having various liquids. The regular speaks over like a man that's at war over with his own liver, and that despite it's best efforts, his liver is losing the battle.

"JUth they don't take a tab, so yer gonna hafta pay drink by drink." He glares over at the bartender.

The bartender looks at him, "Carl, we already had to get an accountant to figure out your tab, we're ot letting you start up a new one until the journal article publishes so we get -some- money out of it."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"That's what cash is for," Brunnhilde says as if it isn't a problem.  Sure she should probably be forking some of that over toward rent but she's already gotten a whiff of what the man has been drinking.

"I'll have what Carl's been having.  How much per bottle?"  The woman jams her hand into her back pocket to fish out a wad of cash.  Then she takes a moment to glance about the establishment.  Then she mouths to Carl, 'I got you.' "And one more drink for Carl on me."  She slaps down what she expects should be enough to cover it.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Carl looks over at her happily, "You're the beth." The bartender would look over at her, then at Carl, and do the logic that another customer paying for drinks was better than someone not getting drinks at all. Bringing over a large bottle of very reasonably priced whiskey - cheap particularly for New York even before the deal.

"So what's your name?" Carl would ask over to Brunnhilde.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"And you're drunk," Brunnhilde says with little care for any consequence.  She flashes a grin that fades quickly, as if it were put on for just that moment.  "Brunnhilde."  Well, that moment until the booze gets there.  That garners a real grin.

"I didn't buy you a drink to talk Carl.  I bought you a drink because then your mouth would be full of liquor," and, Brunnhilde assumes, at some point he'll pass out.  She rises a little to reach for two glasses and pours her and Carl one before pulling the bottle in close for deep swig when the bartender isn't looking.  At least a third of it disappears.  The poured glass serves its purpose as a decoy for more appropriate imbibing.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The man would squint over at Brunnhilde for a few moments, evaluating her in his head before looking her up and down. "You really sure don't look like Elmer Fudd." that would come out with all the confused sincerity that only a drunk could manage.

Carl goes to take over the drink and moves to shove it back. "Or maybe I'm just seeing things." He would affirm after some moments as the bartender would look at Carl, aghast.

"I'm almost tempted to cut you off for that."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Why?  Were you supposed to meet him?"  Brunnhilde does happen to know who Elmer Fudd is.  That's what happens when settling on Midgard in the 80s.  The TV becomes an apt teacher.

"You should.  He just rejected the drink I poured him.  There are children in parts of the world who go to bed without drinks," she chides lightly with mock scoffing before openly drinking straight from the bottle, ignoring her glass.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Carl take shis drink and continues to stare, "But Elmer Fudd is Brunnhilde. Yer definitely not him, so how can you be Brunnhilde.." He goes to let out a hiccup. "Show her. hsow her what Brunnhilde is really like."
    The bartender just goes to stare over at him for a few moments. "I'm sorry.." HE would sigh, "He must be.. More out of it than normal."
    Carl would smack his hand down ,"Show her!" It's very light rather than belligerent.
    The bartender would groan over and then go to turn on the tv.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Carl.  I think you need another drink.  Elmer Fudd could not pull me off."  Brunnhilde chuckles and leans her elbow against the bar.  "You're going to eat your words because Elmer Fudd is not Brunnhilde.  I'd bet on it."

The Valkyrie must be in good spirits tonight since she just smirks back to the bartender and shrugs.  "It's fine.  Show me.  Show me how much prettier Elmer Fudd is than Bugs Bunny.  Please.  Educate me."  She doesn't even bother hiding her drinking from the bottle anymore.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Carl looks over at Brunnhilde and squints over at her. "All right." The bartender just goes to let out a sigh. Not bothering to wish they were slammed. He's just guaranteed..

And 'What's Opera Doc?' starts to play as the familiar (perhaps) 'Merrie Melodies' chime starts.
    Bugs and Elmer are singing their duet as Wagner's Viking Saga is rapidly compressed down into roughly seven minutes

Brunnhilde has posed:
Of course, Bugs is the only one sporting braids in the whole production, and as they watch, Brunnhilde's bottle empties somehow.  Before the end though, she's already digging out more bills.  "This is so inaccurate," she mumbles to herself as she takes everything in stride.

"Carl.  I'm not sure it's possible for me to look like Bugs or Fudd.  What were you expecting?"  Brunnhilde gives everything a kind of cursory attention.  She's here to drink and Carl is a part of the background, like a frond in a tiki bar.  He's the atmosphere.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
There's a look over from Carl to Fudd to Bugs to the Bartender to Brunhillde, "... Do you have a spear and magic helmet?" He finally admits while squinting at the television back and forth a few times before grumbling. "Stupid tv. It always lies. It always, always lies." He would fold his arms together, taking another sip of his alcohol while grumbling.

The bartender would sigh, and pull a very large bottle of vodka to Brunnhilde. "On the house."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Sword and a magic horse," did, but this isn't a moment for splitting hairs.  "I gave up spears ages ago.  Not really all that up close and personal you know?"  Magic.  One of those words she's picked up over the years that gives her that shine of authenticity.

"Yeah.  Pretty much.  Don't worry Carl.  I had to find that out the hard way too."  Brunnhilde lets out a little laugh and smiles to the bartender.  "Good, because I I'm going to need it if I'm going to wash this out of my memory...Maybe, I shouldn't be finishing this heere," Brunnhilde thinks aloud as she squints at how big the bottle is as if that would make her judgement any better.  This woman should be beyond wasted already, but she isn't.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Carl nods over at Brunnhilde for a few moments, "Well, fair enough. I suppose you can't be.." Probably best not to ask how that refrain of logic went on in the poor drunk's head. Even now he would be taking another pull of the lacohol to make the pain start to fade away.

The bartender would glance at her. "You know, you should be on the floor right now or having a go at singing up on the stage." Yet hse was fully sober. "You're not going to drink here out of house and home, are you?"

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Oh that?  I have a weird condition.  I drink a lot."  Brunnhilde says without even blinking.  "I probably have about five minutes to get home before I-," she cuts herself off, holding her hand straight up and making it tiiiiiimber-splat onto the bar.

"Just give it time, and maybe a little more alcohol-I wish.  I don't have the cash for it."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The bartender would glance at her, then at Carl. Carl was yelling at the tv for Brunnhilde not being Bugs Bunny and let out a sigh. "Tell you what, I'll give you another bottle of that, call you a taxi, and you agree never to talk about this evening ever again."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"It's a deal."  An Brunnhilde will even avoid Tuesday nights in the future, assuming that this is Carl's regular time to scare every patron away.  "Maybe I'll just get a breath of fresh air while I wait for that taxi," she says as she side-eyes Carl.

Sliding from her seat, Brunnhilde slips her newfound bottles away under her jacket, TO PROTECT THEM FROM THE COLD OF COURSE.  She makes a zipping lips motion and takes her leave of Carl and the poor bartender.

"I really need to remember this place before it goes out of business," she mumbles to herself when she cracks open one of the bottles out front on the street.

It's hard to be grumpy about two free bottles of booze.  She lifts her bottle to the establishment in a toast before ducking into the taxi.