>>12554185If there's one thing about bartenders that should be known, it's that they're tattle-tale cuntbags who can't keep secrets to anyone. They can't be trusted with ANYTHING.
Now you ask, 'what kind of people do bartenders serve then?'
People who HAVE secrets.
Food for thought, take one guy, get him drunk to holy fucking hell off of a mighty ale, and what happens? He begins to go into a drunken spur and starts rambling about his life and recent happenings that he can drown in alcohol, usually includes said secret.
I don't see Politoed being any different, the things he's heard overtime could range from anything. But I don't have a doubt in my mind telling me he hasn't heard a thing about the murders
"Hey Politoed guy! Can we ask you about something?" asked Quags.
"Of course you can honey, totally!~ What is it that you need to know about?"
What a fucking flamboyant voice. Since when did ambiguously sexual bartenders become a common sight in this world? He doesn't even have an eye patch!
Quags took out his ID badge, which wasn't really all that awe-inspiring, at least when compared to mine. He explained our origins in a deep voice, "I'm Detective Quagson and this is my dim-witted assistant Wobbunoir, we're here investigating the murders of ship passengers Slakoth and Gliscor. We wanted to know if you knew anything about these deaths."
Really? Come on... That's not cool...
