The bald mouse, being well-padded, is fine, but will not say no to a large decaf Irish whiskey, no Baileys, no mint, yes whipped cream!

The glass is about the same size as the bat, and *piping* hot. Really. The steam sounds like bagpipes. Impressed, and having been to both Draco's Tavern *and* the Long Spoon, la chauve-souris, avec courage, entame sa boisson. Irish coffee has to be drunk while still hot all the way down. The bat *has* to be drunk after that, and in fact will be drunkenly alert for hours.

Now, it's the bat that sounds like bagpipes, on every exhale, but, too drunk to figure out why the bloody piper never seems to finish a song, is trying to shout requests over the sound of the pipes. This does not go well for the bat, but since all the shouting and, in fact, all the piping, has been in too high a register for the Squid, or most of the adult humans, to register, not many notice anything much.

A bat head down in a nice warm freshly-enptied hot whiskey glass is no unusual sight on *this* bar, after all.

Eventually, the glass cools, and the bat extricates themself and lands upright, wearing a dashing melty whipped-cream beret. The pipes stopped when the steam ran out, so the bat whirls back off above the dance floor, scattering off-white blobs immediately mistaken for guano.

That doesn't go so well for the bat, either...