Who: McMurphy and Open
What: Drinkin' and maybe gamblin' too

McMurphy poured himself a stiff drink, then took a seat at the bar. He took out his favorite deck of nudie cards and started shuffling it as he sat and sipped his drink.

Who: McMurphy and Open
What: Drinks

McMurphy was sitting at the bar, starting on his third beer. He was restless and hoped that someone would join him. Preferably someone in a skirt, but a drinking buddy would do just fine.

Randle didn't remember entering any hotel and this place didn't seem like the sort of institution that would consider RP McMurphy a welcome patron. But, Mac had never let being unwelcome stop him.

He ambled over to the desk and smiled at the old broad sitting behind it. "Excuse me, m'am," he said, "My name's Randle Patrick McMurphy. Do you mind telling me where the fuck I am?"

Yente smiled back at him. "There's no need for language, Mr. McMurphy," she said. "You're in The Match Hotel. You've been brought here in order to find love."

McMurphy raised an eyebrow. "Love?" he asked. "I'm hoping you mean to say I'll be finding a lot of poozle and you're just being polite."

She shook her head. "No, Mr. McMurphy. I'm afraid you won't be able to leave this place until you've found real, true love."

McMurphy looked around. This appeared to be by far the most comfortable place he'd ever been in his life. "Well, alright then," he said, "I promise you I'll get right on that finding love thing just as soon as I've had a good night's sleep. Say, you wouldn't happen to have any orange juice around here, would you?"