Lyra gives the security guard a kind smile, which quickly changes to one of devious intentions. She slips off the belt and pulls open the trenchcoat, revealing an entire coatfull of arms. Machine guns, mini-guns, shoulder missle launcheres, the works. Her smile vanishes like qick silver and is replaced by a face of grim determination. She yells, apparently to the walls of the bar,
FOR BOOZERAMA!