Nicky Ca$ino

*Sniff* Christmas parties at Drakes, (I am not going to cry) best damn days of my life.

Our only crime is that we're attractive to women. (Man! I'm pretty)

Anything by Hairloss Poopertar. Love you, Bri.

Ah, you fools. You foolish fools. Aberdeen-casino.net, Dr. Nicks, Ca$-ulu, Triple Nicks, The Nickory, soon I shall be King of this city and Lester... you shall be my queen.

I'm sure you'll all be overjoyed to hear that 'Disco' Joe is just fine and dandy. He's quite pleased, or at least as pleased as you can be, with his new (permanent and facially disfiguring) scar and I only wish that it had went down through his eye, giving him the excuse to wear an eyepatch. To Wee Paul Terror: I thought you might have known Joe, he did a bit of teaching at the Machar. He was also in the same year as me and he was my... *sniff* my best friend... oh god I think I'm going to cry. His face! His beautiful face!!

Gimme some sugar, baby.

You'd have to deal with the numerous assassination attempts that I have to live through every day. Every one wants to be Barman of the... what was that? *turns around* Nick: Brian what do you want? Brian: The belt!! Give me the belt! Nick: You'll have to prise that belt out of my cold, dead hands you fiend! Brian: I wouldn't have it any other way! Nick: You worm-ridden piece of filth! *Mighty battle ensues*

Suit, shirt, boots and tie are still the excellence of execution, no?

Re: ... Aww... don't say that, Jim. You guys make a wonderful job of polishing my belt and not even my gran gets my boots to shine like you do.

Aww, shucks. I don't know if you can tell but under this boss tan I'm actually blushing.

Whooo!! What a night! And it's still going, yeah!

BURN HER!

But... but... Drakes is supposed to be a sweat-box. We designed it that way, under the floor there's dragons and lava.