Scott smirks a little, looking at Sweeney as if wanting to confirm Chuck's drink order and Sweeney shrugs expansively.

"You heard the man," he answers. "And make it strong."

Which is how, several minutes later, they're both sipping from a Southern Comfort and Coke. It's not the sort of drink Sweeney would expect Chuck to order if he'd known what he was getting himself into, but he has it now. And it's Sweeney's favourite fucking drink. If Chuck complains, it's his own damn fault.

"Them?" he asks, nodding at a few guys sitting near the dart board. "They look good for a game or a fight."