Knife puts out the small fire resulting from the Molotov and tosses Trilby out of the bar. "Now I know that this is just an exellent, thought rousing discussion you have going on here, but is anyone going to order anything?" Knife says, resuming his position behind the bar.
"Why of course." Knife says, ducking under the bar and popping back up wearing a headwrap. He closes his eyes, and places a hand on Salt's head. "I sense...I sense that you will buy many drinks and that you will tip generously." Knife opens his eyes and removes the headwrap. "So what'll it be?"
"Short of going into the future, there's no way of knowing Salt." Knife says, "That said, The Mall stocks an ample number of time machines, go knock yourself out."
"No more than a man can predict how he'll die. Look Salt, I find it easiest in life not to dwell on the what ifs and what's done, and instead focus on the here and the now."
Knife sighs, and continues to poar Salt drinks as fast as he can drink them. "You know, I would say to slow down a notch, but I get the feeoing you wouldn't listen anyway."
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