Shark leads the way into the El Sleazo, in the mood for a drink after all that tracking Trypticon and nothing to show for it other than a report. Chains is in a bit of a sour mood as well, and always in the mood for a drink after a day's work. He heads in, greeting some of the rougher looking bots about as he goes. Shark moves toward the bar, glancing over his shoulder at Chains. "Name your drink, I'll buy." he offers. Chains raises his glass. "Long distance scouting is pretty much the name of my game. I don't much mind not hangin' around the base and all. An' we'll get 'em next time."