More out of morbid curiosity than any genuine desire to experience this "entertainment" of which the sign spoke (though free booze was never to be turned down,) John wandered in and was impressed to find the place occupied entirely by humans, or reasonable approximations thereof. And one with a guitar, even. He wondered if the boy knew anything that predated 1980.

Pepper was there, too, but she was busy trading jabs with Adam (literally and figuratively,) so he didn't interrupt, taking a seat at the bar not far off and waiting to see whether the guitar-toting kid was any good. Nearby, the knucklehead who'd put the enchantment on that sodding mistletoe, charred bits of which still clung stubbornly to the doorframe, was chatting up yet another pretty lady (starting to look like a bit of a pattern, that.) He'd need to have a word with the bloke about that at some point...