In this excerpt, I attempted to write an engaging scene based almost solely on dialogue.

As always, feel free to let me know what you think — in the comments, in person, on Facebook, by carrier pigeon (okay, not that last one).

“Lessee, where was I?  Oh, yeah, the Oval Office.”

He snorted. 

“Ha!  Nah, dude, I wasn’t standing in the Oval Office when it happened.  Those bigwigs don’t know I exist.  Didn’t, I mean.”

He took another swallow.

“I bet it was a shock, though.”

He chuckled, glancing over at his companion.

“Lemme buy you another one.”

It was a quiet night.  They were the only ones in the place.

“No, no, man, it’s no problem. “  He gestured at the barkeep.

“A hologram outa nowhere?  Next to the Resolute desk?  Of that?? If anything would make the leader of the Free World [sic: removed crudeness].”

Another frosty one appeared in front of his companion.

“Got to wonder what they thought.  Not Secret Service; they were going ape-shit, probably – the men in the high-power suits.”

He paused again to drain his beer.

“Betcha some of them just thought it a prank.  There’s enough loonies out there.”

He laughed.  “And in that White House.”

He took a chug of the foaming beer now in front of him.  “Ahh… nothin’ like some a good dark porter.”

“Nice to meetcha, Tom.”  He nodded at his companion.

“Oh, I’m Salvadore Finch.”

He examined the outstretched hand with bleary eyes.  “No, no, trust me, you don’t want to shake my hand.  See?”

He waved his hands.  Green drops splattered to bar and his companion. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to splatter you.  The hand slime is harmless.  All the docs say.”

His companion jerked away.

“I’m not contagious, man!  Really.  Just a mild case of Ero slime.   Just ask Marcus here behind the bar.”

The barkeep nodded and shrugged as he wiped the last of the green goo up.

“Hey, have another.  I’m buyin’. “

The barkeep hurried off.

“Milan fashion.”

His companion looked confused.

“Yeah, Milan fashion.  Dressed like a model off the runway.  Well, as much as possible.”

He swallowed more beer.

“Incongruous!  Incongruous… Incon… con…”

His companion smiled.

“Yeah, I know words.”

He tottered on the bar stool.  His companion glanced at the barkeep. 

“No, no, man, just got a slight balance problem – from the ride, you know.  Ear busted.”