Cryobionic
Seven Thousand Club
Vincent sighed, reaching under the bar before grabbing for the square bottle of jack he knew was down there. He brought it up and slid it over to her, "Fine," He murmured, not believing her for a second, "But if you ever want to rant about the paperwork, you know where to find me. Besides, it's kind of my job to listen to sob stories, so it's not like I would mind."