"Hey, Bhaghhh!" came the voice of the off-duty walrus-tusked doorman, who guarded the entrance to Jake's. "Y'aren't singin' tonight, are you?"
"Nope..." the Lord of the Flies answered, shaking his head. "I'm trying to find my soulmate... again."
"Again?" Chewy asked, putting a heavy, blubbery hand on the turtle-man's shoulder. "What happened, man?"
"Well, Chewy..." he sighed, raising his finger as Jake slid a beer down the bar toward him, "I guess I just don't understand the ladies!"
"Weren't you dating someone not too long ago?" Chewy asked, sipping his Boilermaker.
"Yeah..." Baghhh-rupth said, looking around. "But she was slightly radioactive and eventually reached her half-life before things were able to get too serious."
"Cryin' shame, man," Chewy said, shaking his head in sympathy.
"What am I gonna do, man?" Bhaghhh asked sadly.
"Whatever it is you do best, man..." Chewy offered. "You still sing, right?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, I think Jake would be more'n happy to warm up the old karaoke machine for ya... isn't that right, Jake?"
"Sure thing!" the bartender smiled, throwing a wink over at Bhaghhh-rupth. "Just gotta make sure that Otto doesn't get up there again. I swear, if I never hear I've Got Friends in Low Places again, it'll be too soon!"
Chewy chuckled a bit as Bhaghhh looked around nervously. Then, the turtle-man-creature-thing threw back the rest of his beer and stood up, banging his hands on the bartop.
"I'LL DO IT!" he roared.
The entire bar grew silent as crickets chirped.
"Oops..."
