“The bottle…” Chester slurred, “is the most incongr…inconge—er…I say…wot?” He turned to his companion. “The ’ell did you say, mate?”

“Nothin’,” Lewis said, as he raised his forehead from the wobbly table. “You were sayin…sommat…somethin’ bout being incogneto, right? So I says,” Lewis took a swig of the piss warm gin, “I says you’re a damned fool, right? Cause…the lizards…you’re not a lizard, Chessy.” He slurred the last word.

“Aye,” Chester nodded, deep in appreciation of the wisdom of his friend. “You know, if’n I was a lizard, I’d be a kingly lizard. Sprightly and domin…domi—er…like the king. HERE, HERE!” Chester yelled while wobbling to one leg. “Long live that King there, ey!” A resouding mumble met his cheer. “Bah. Hey, hey there, hey,” Chester prodded a sleeping Lewis with his bottle. “Whaddever happened to that whore you had eyes fer?”

Lewis’ head slammed back on the table. “She stole my money.”

Chester hiccuped. With a bottle in hand, his face fell to the table too.