Their slumped friend falls off his stool and lies like a poisoning in the movies. They hoist the corpse from the floor and explain to the barman what doesn't need explaining. "But Bartek," they plead � the barman's name is Bart, Bartek in the local language � "but Bartek," but barman Bartek says finish your beer. They finish theirs and their friend's and heave together through the doors to the sidewalk. Then they stand. They lean. They wave. They stand. No taxi wants them and they can't walk. It takes them ages to dissipate.