A Princess, An Elf, And A Demon Walk Into A Bar... | HOT |

"We got ale and 'The Special,'" the bartender grunted, polishing a mug with a rag that was arguably filthier than the glass.

"Exactly," Malphas chuckled. "And we were still ten minutes early for happy hour." A Princess, an Elf, and a Demon Walk Into a Bar...

The Princess approached the bar, tapping a manicured finger on the sticky wood. "A glass of your finest vintage," she commanded. "Preferably one that hasn’t been used to clean a boot." "We got ale and 'The Special,'" the bartender

Thandriel looked at his murky ale, then at the Demon. "I am not driving the carriage, Malphas. The last time you 'navigated,' we ended up in the Third Circle of Hell." "A glass of your finest vintage," she commanded

Malphas took a massive swig of the liquid fire and grinned, showing too many teeth. "Because, Princess... the Dark Lord might be coming for your kingdom, and the Void might be swallowing the Elven forests, but even the apocalypse needs a designated driver."

First came . She didn’t "walk" so much as glide, her silk skirts trailing over sawdust and spilled ale with an air of profound disappointment. She was followed by Thandriel , an Elf who looked like he’d been carved out of moonlight and condescension. Bringing up the rear was Malphas , a Demon whose presence made the room five degrees hotter and smelled vaguely of sulfur and expensive cigars.

The bartender stared. Malphas leaned over, his horns narrowly missing a low-hanging chandelier. "Give 'em the rotgut, barkeep. And for me? Whatever you use to strip the paint off those wagons outside. Make it a double." The Punchline