A Warehouse Called George - Saturday Night after the Party.

Barry had gone to a party. In a toga that had... stuff on it. And he had two alcoholic drinks.

That was the most human contact he had in years. Unless you counted the Ramaat and the Tolan.

Barry did not count the Ramaat or the Tolan.

He made it back to the warehouse still feeling the effects of the gimlets. Slumping back in front of his consoles he let out a sigh of relief. There. Social interaction. Total win.

( But still... he felt the need to reach out to a friend. )

Barry hung up feeling... at ease. Ignoring the horrible homemade toga, Barry did what he usually did this late at night.

He went to work. There were prototypes to build. Theories to pursue. New technology to create.

Hopefully tomorrow he'd get his underwear back.

[Establishy]