Astrit Zupan || Kosovo

[Astrit Zupan]

[rs=3][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 475px; padding: 10px, true][div style="border: 2px solid #ededed; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i192.photobucket.com/albums/z110/mysterygold/dp_zps55eeb72f.jpeg);[/style"]	[cs=3] ASTRIT ZUPAN
Male	13	Pansexual
Half-Serbian, half-Albanian	Student	Civilian

[cs=5][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 475px; padding: 10px, true] APPEARANCE
1.36 m	31 kg	Red
Brown	Light-skinned	Scrawny

[cs=3][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 475px; padding: 10px, true] PERSONAL
[cs=3] Personality
[cs=3] Astrit would really appreciate it if you thought of him as your unfriendly neighborhood tough guy. He hails from the not-so-nice part of town, and to survive he does his best to cultivate an image that makes him seem to be too dangerous to mess with. To this end, he has been teaching himself how to fight in any way he can find--usually in ways involving the knife that he always carries with him for protection. He does not know, and he hopes not to have to find out, how he would fare if actually constrained to fight an adult (though, unbeknownst to himself, he would actually have a reasonable chance in a swordfight), but he is good at bluffing and at finagling his way out of tricky situations. He thinks he has seen everything there is to see in life, and because of it affects a rather cynical, world-weary manner that disappears rather quickly if he is offered something good to eat. It is difficult, however, for him to balance the necessary violence of his life with his mile-wide but deeply buried idealistic streak. He is secretly the sort of boy who dreams of being called great and good, who would love to spend hours reading under a tree with a plate of cookies or to devote his days to accomplishing some amazing feat that everyone would love him for. If he could, he would jump at the chance to become a Narnian knight. Just being an ordinary schoolboy who didn't need to carry a weapon for self-defence would be fine by him, too, or so he imagines. He has had to grow up rather quickly, having to balance his internal wishes with a rather demanding and dangerous environment. He knows he's not old enough to do everything alone, but he also knows he can't trust everyone he meets. For this reason, he's had to learn to pay close attention to people and to calculate his every move. He has to trust someone--but a lot depends on his being able to pick the right person to trust. Deep beneath the tough act and all the calculations and even his peaceful dreams, the core of Astrit's being is a simple desire to be good. He has done a lot of things that went against what he believed was right, but even while he's trying to stay alive he wants desperately to keep something of human goodness about him. If he lost that, he would probably lose his mind.
Likes	Hates	Fears
-Food! Especially good food. Well, he is a growing boy. Astrit likes to eat well and often, and all the more because he doesn't actually get that much to eat very frequently. -His own way. He likes having control over his own life, as most people do, and appreciates the chance all the more because this also doesn't come to him as often as it should. -Peace and harmony. He would really love to be left alone to do his own little thing, but somehow this doesn't happen very much. As such, if you tell on him about this, he might have to kill you. -Reading. He's smart and good at it, and it allows him to have a bit of freedom from responsibilities and expectations. It's like a window into his own mind sometimes, a place he can escape to think really hard about things that don't put so much pressure on him. -Having skills. If he's good at a thing, then he gets a thrill from being able to accomplish it. There just isn't anything like knowing that you can try something and it works. -The colors blue and gold. He just thinks they look really nice together for some reason.	-Being treated like a child. He really, really wants to keep up his tough exterior, and having that ignored incenses him. -His own childishness. He wants to be mature and strong and competent--in fact, he needs to be if he's going to take care of himself--and it drives him batty that he can't exorcise his youth. -Sudden loud noises. On account of having to be on guard so much in order to keep from getting hurt, he startles easily and is embarrassed by his own instinctive responses. -All unpleasant surprises. Well, by definition nobody likes these, but he hates to be caught off-guard, he hates to be shocked because he was so much on his guard, and he really hates the unexpected dollops of misfortune that come his way much too often. -Clinginess, in himself or others. He would like to be self-sufficient, thank you very much, and being treated like someone's comfort object (or, worse, catching himself doing the same) makes him mad.	-Harm coming to the people he cares about, especially harm for which he is at fault. He's lost many of the people who mattered to him, and now he is very protective of the few he still has. People he cares about getting hurt frightens him; them sustaining harm that he could have prevented terrifies him; the thought that he could cause them harm is worse than the both of the aforementioned combined. -Having body parts stolen. When he was younger, his sister used to tell him horror stories about people back in the old country who woke up one day to find that they were short a few internal organs. The veracity of these stories is unknown, but he still has nightmares about that situation sometimes. -Becoming a monster. This frightens him more than anything else in the world; he lives in the mortal terror that if he goes on much further, he will lose the goodness he has in his heart and become something less than human. He is desperate to prevent that from happening.

[cs=3][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 475px; padding: 10px, true] BACKGROUND

[cs=3] History

[cs=3] Astrit was born in a small country called Kosovo, to parents on either side of the tense ethnic divide in the area. He was given a name honoring both sides of his heritage, his first name Albanian, and for his last name a Serbian word for "leader." He strongly suspects that his parents originally had different last names, but also infers that their change of name was somehow related to their choice, shortly after he was born, to take the newborn Astrit and his mother's daughter from a previous marriage and flee to Britain. They settled in a less-than-pleasant area of London on account of having spent most of their money crossing Europe, but always said that they had made the better choice. For about two or three years, everything worked out pretty well. It wasn't the safest possible place to live, but Astrit's parents both found jobs, his sister began school and did fairly well, and he himself learned such engaging skills as smiling, talking, crawling, walking, eating, and strewing anything left within his reach across the floor. Then his mother grew very ill very suddenly. One day she was perfectly well, the next she was feeling a little under the weather, and the next--before it even occurred to anyone that she should see a doctor--she was dead. Astrit was too young to understand what was happening, but his father and sister were quite naturally traumatized by the experience. If the things Astrit's father said were any indication, raising two children as a single parent was an even tougher job than being one of those children, but the little family tried hard to make it work. And it did work, until shortly after Astrit started primary school, when his father was killed in an accident at work. After that, there was really no one left to raise the brother and sister except for each other, since they had no other family and no one noticed that they were orphaned. How well did that work? Well, the two of them had the same school hours, and so while school was in they could trust that they were looked after by adults. After hours, though, they had to handle everything by themselves. Keeping a roof over their heads and food on the table was a struggle; they did not know where to go for help, and so resorted first to selling their parents' things wherever they could find someone to buy, and then to theft once they had nothing more of their own. Neither of them was happy with this arrangement, though, and so the sister began trying to find work for them to do. Work of the illegal variety was the easiest to get, especially since legal employers paid attention to such things as the Child Labour Laws, and it paid for their food as well as anything might. When Astrit was twelve, he began fighting with his sister more often. She had taken a parental role in his life--the only parental figure he had--and now he resented that she was still laying down the law when she could, as he was beginning to reach that age of rebellion. One of their fights came just before she went to work one night. She never came home. Two days later, a police officer investigating the murder of a young woman knocked on Astrit's door. His sister was dead--the only family he had left--but because of her death he had come to the attention of some people who could either help or hurt him greatly. He still lives in the same neighborhood he grew up in, but he has a guardian now, and his former business associates know that he's being watched by people who wouldn't take kindly to an attempt to pull him back in. He wanted to get out, but the choice wasn't offered to him. What was offered was a decent education--in fact, he travels by train and foot to the same school attended by the younger members of certain politicians' families--and a promise of a clean slate if he made it through school. It wasn't the best possible deal, but Astrit jumped at the chance without knowing if he could have gotten a better one. This way would let him stay in familiar surroundings and possibly get out when he was old enough. It could have been worse, it really could have. {Rules Things {My favorite color is pink} {My favorite number is 19.} {So there's a new clerk at the bakery. His first customer comes in and asks, "Do you have any bread?" The clerk shrugs and says, "Uhhh... I dunno." Incredulous, the customer storms out, vowing never to return. Then the manager comes in and instructs the clerk, "If someone asks you if we have any bread, you say, 'Yes, we have plenty.'" Then another customer comes in and asks, "Do you have any bread?" "Yes, we have plenty." "How much does it cost?" "Uhhh... I dunno." "...I'm taking my business elsewhere." Then the manager comes in and explains to the clerk, "If someone asks you how much the bread costs, say 'Five cents! Five cents only!'" Another customer comes in: "Do you have any bread?" "Yes, we have plenty." "How much does it cost?" "Five cents! Five cents only!" "Is it fresh?" "Uhhh... I dunno." "Forget it, I want fresh bread." The manager, getting a little impatient now, tells the clerk, "If someone asks you if the bread is fresh, you say, 'Yes! Very fresh!'" The next customer comes by and wants to know, "Do you have any bread?" "Yes, we have plenty!" "How much does it cost?" "Five cents! Five cents only!" "Is it fresh?" "Yes, very fresh!" "Can I buy it?" "Uhhh... I dunno." "Are you kidding? I'm never coming here again!" The manager comes in, very annoyed and incredulous, and informs the clerk through gritted teeth, "If someone asks you if they can BUY the bread, YOU SAY 'If you don't, someone else will!'" Then a robber comes in and demands to know, "Do you have any money?" The hapless clerk responds, "Yes, we have plenty!" "How much?" "Five cents! Five cents only!" "Are you being fresh with me?!" "Yes, very fresh!" "DO YOU WANT ME TO KILL YOU?" "If you don't, someone else will!"} {(Oh, crap--I don't know any pickup lines; will my acknowledgment that that is what is expected suffice?)}

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 1px;] H E Y Y O U

By Captain of BTN and OTE [newclass=.scrollthing ::-webkit-scrollbar] width: 5px; background-color: #000000;[/newclass][newclass=.scrollthing ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #ededed;[/newclass]

[Missy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,5,true][atrb=style, width: 470px; margin-top: 20px, true] ACCEPTED	[rs=2]
[rs=3] GREETINGS FROM TOMORROW NEVER DIES YOUR PROFILE HAS BEEN ACCEPTED.
Hello Koko! Firstly, we would just like to apologise how long it took for us to get to your app! (The mods are all on hiatus > W >) But anyway, let's get to the app! I really do enjoy the structure of Astrit's character. He's very broken for a child his age and had to go through much. It's always nice to see such a flawed character because they feel very human. His fear is also very interesting as well! Stolen body parts? Wow! I don't think any other character on the site has such a fear, at least not presently. So without further ado, Astrit is hereby accept and I welcome you once again to TND! The name is Zupan. Astrit Zupan.

By Captain of BTN and OTE

[newclass=.scrollthing ::-webkit-scrollbar] width: 5px; background-color: #000000;[/newclass][newclass=.scrollthing ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #ededed;[/newclass]

[Astrit Zupan]

Astrit Aleksander Zupan Astrit is the tough kid on the block. At least, that's what he'll tell you he is, and he's got the knife-fighting tricks to prove it. He might prefer to use those skills in defense of Narnia or not at all, but if you mention that to him, he'll strenuously deny it and possibly try to kill you to keep you from telling. If you would rather get on his good side instead, offer him something to eat.

CODE NAME: Blackbird

Male

13

Pansexual

Half-Serbian, half-Albanian

Student, ex-thief

Civilian

Physical

136 cm

31 kg

Brown hair

Brown eyes

Light tan

Scrawny

Personal

Astrit would really appreciate it if you thought of him as your unfriendly neighborhood tough guy. He hails from the not-so-nice part of town, and to survive he does his best to cultivate an image that makes him seem to be too dangerous to mess with. To this end, he has been teaching himself how to fight in any way he can find--usually in ways involving the knife that he always carries with him for protection. He does not know, and he hopes not to have to find out, how he would fare if actually constrained to fight an adult (though, unbeknownst to himself, he would actually have a reasonable chance in a swordfight), but he is good at bluffing and at finagling his way out of tricky situations. He thinks he has seen everything there is to see in life, and because of it affects a rather cynical, world-weary manner that disappears rather quickly if he is offered something good to eat. It is difficult, however, for him to balance the necessary violence of his life with his mile-wide but deeply buried idealistic streak. He is secretly the sort of boy who dreams of being called great and good, who would love to spend hours reading under a tree with a plate of cookies or to devote his days to accomplishing some amazing feat that everyone would love him for. If he could, he would jump at the chance to become a Narnian knight. Just being an ordinary schoolboy who didn't need to carry a weapon for self-defence would be fine by him, too, or so he imagines. He has had to grow up rather quickly, having to balance his internal wishes with a rather demanding and dangerous environment. He knows he's not old enough to do everything alone, but he also knows he can't trust everyone he meets. For this reason, he's had to learn to pay close attention to people and to calculate his every move. He has to trust someone--but a lot depends on his being able to pick the right person to trust. Deep beneath the tough act and all the calculations and even his peaceful dreams, the core of Astrit's being is a simple desire to be a good person. He has done a lot of things that went against what he believed was right, but even while he's trying to stay alive he wants desperately to keep something of human goodness about him. If he lost that, if he violated everything he knew was right and sacrificed his humanity for his life, he would probably lose his mind as well.

Likes

Dislikes

-Food! Especially good food. Well, he is a growing boy. Astrit likes to eat well and often, and all the more because he doesn't actually get that much to eat very frequently. -His own way. He likes having control over his own life, as most people do, and appreciates the chance all the more because this also doesn't come to him as often as it should. -Peace and harmony. He would really love to be left alone to do his own little thing without worrying about constantly being in danger, but somehow this doesn't happen very much. As such, if you tell on him about this, he might have to kill you. -Reading. He's smart and good at it, and it allows him to have a bit of freedom from responsibilities and expectations. It's like a window into his own mind sometimes, a place he can escape to think really hard about things that don't put so much pressure on him. -Having skills. If he's good at a thing, then he gets a thrill from being able to accomplish it. There just isn't anything like knowing that you can try something and it works. -The colors blue and gold. He just thinks they look really nice together for some reason.

-Being treated like a child. He really, really wants to keep up his tough exterior, and having that ignored incenses him. -His own childishness. He wants to be mature and strong and competent--in fact, he needs to be if he's going to take care of himself--and it drives him batty that he can't exorcise his youth. -Sudden loud noises. On account of having to be on guard so much in order to keep from getting hurt, he startles easily and is embarrassed by his own instinctive responses. -All unpleasant surprises. Well, by definition nobody likes these, but he hates to be caught off-guard, he hates to be shocked because he was so much on his guard, and he really hates the unexpected dollops of misfortune that come his way much too often. -Clinginess, in himself or others. He would like to be self-sufficient, thank you very much, and being treated like someone's comfort object (or, worse, catching himself doing the same) makes him mad.

Dreams

Fears

-Having friends. It's very hard for Astrit to make friends now, but he desperately wants to have people around he can really, truly trust. This is his short-term dream: to be an ordinary boy surrounded by people he likes and trusts and can understand. -A better life. He's never had one better than he's got right now, but he's aware that better exists. If he could get it, he would love to make his way up into a middle-class life--a place to live without any major endemic health hazards, more and better food, maybe even owning a TV. (He does have plenty of imagination; he's just a little unsure about what exactly constitutes "middle class" as opposed to "very rich.") -Greatness. Not that he particularly cares about how he achieves it--and he really doesn't need to know just yet, seeing as he's so young. Maybe he would be a world-class surgeon and save people's lives every day, or maybe a great athlete (Olympian runner! Fencing champion! Gymnast! Football star! Swimmer!) or a scientist whose technological advances save the world, or a great artist whose works move everyone who sees them to tears. Astrit just craves approval and the satisfaction of knowing that he made a really big difference.

-Harm coming to the people he cares about, especially harm for which he is at fault. He's lost many of the people who mattered to him, and now he is very protective of the few he still has. People he cares about getting hurt frightens him; them sustaining harm that he could have prevented terrifies him; the thought that he could cause them harm is worse than the both of the aforementioned combined. -Having body parts stolen. When he was younger, his sister used to tell him horror stories about people back in the old country who woke up one day to find that they were short a few internal organs. The veracity of these stories is unknown, but he still has nightmares about that situation sometimes. -Becoming a monster. This frightens him more than anything else in the world; he lives in the mortal terror that if he goes on much further, he will lose the goodness he has in his heart and become something less than human. He is desperate to prevent that from happening.

Background

Astrit was born in a small country called Kosovo, to parents on either side of the tense ethnic divide in the area. He was given a name honoring both sides of his heritage, his first name Albanian, and for his last name a Serbian word for "leader." He strongly suspects that his parents originally had different last names, but also infers that their change of name was somehow related to their choice, shortly after he was born, to take the newborn Astrit and his mother's daughter from a previous marriage and flee to Britain. They settled in a less-than-pleasant area of London on account of having spent most of their money crossing Europe, but always said that they had made the better choice. For about two or three years, everything worked out pretty well. It wasn't the safest possible place to live, but Astrit's parents both found jobs, his sister began school and did fairly well, and he himself learned such engaging skills as smiling, talking, crawling, walking, eating, and strewing anything left within his reach across the floor. Then his mother grew very ill very suddenly. One day she was perfectly well, the next she was feeling a little under the weather, and the next--before it even occurred to anyone that she should see a doctor--she was dead. Astrit was too young to understand what was happening, but his father and sister were quite naturally traumatized by the experience. If the things Astrit's father said were any indication, raising two children as a single parent was an even tougher job than being one of those children, but the little family tried hard to make it work. And it did work, until shortly after Astrit started primary school, when his father was killed in an accident at work. After that, there was really no one left to raise the brother and sister except for each other, since they had no other family and no one noticed that they were orphaned. How well did that work? Well, the two of them had the same school hours, and so while school was in they could trust that they were looked after by adults. After hours, though, they had to handle everything by themselves. Keeping a roof over their heads and food on the table was a struggle; they did not know where to go for help, and so resorted first to selling their parents' things wherever they could find someone to buy, and then to theft once they had nothing more of their own. Neither of them was happy with this arrangement, though, and so the sister began trying to find work for them to do. Work of the illegal variety was the easiest to get, especially since legal employers paid attention to such things as the Child Labour Laws, and it paid for their food as well as anything might. When Astrit was twelve, he began fighting with his sister more often. She had taken a parental role in his life--the only parental figure he had--and now he resented that she was still laying down the law when she could, as he was beginning to reach that age of rebellion. One of their fights came just before she went to work one night. She never came home. Two days later, a police officer investigating the murder of a young woman knocked on Astrit's door. His sister was dead--the only family he had left--but because of her death he had come to the attention of some people who could either help or hurt him greatly. He still lives in the same neighborhood he grew up in, but he has a guardian now, and his former business associates know that he's being watched by people who wouldn't take kindly to an attempt to pull him back in. He wanted to get out, but the choice wasn't offered to him. What was offered was a decent education--in fact, he travels by train and foot to the same school attended by the younger members of certain politicians' families--and a promise of a clean slate if he made it through school. It wasn't the best possible deal, but Astrit jumped at the chance without knowing if he could have gotten a better one. This way would let him stay in familiar surroundings and possibly get out when he was old enough. It could have been worse, it really could have.

Role-Play Sample

(From Manor of Fate) Distantly, Astrit was aware of wanting to cry, but his eyes were even more dry than usual. The boy was numb with shock over what he had just done, something far worse than anything he had ever done before. Yes, he had fought, and he had wounded others, but he had never killed. It seemed like such a small distinction, until you did it. He was just doing what it took to live, just like always, but was his life really worth any more than the life he had just... cut? Old Greek stories that he had heard long ago danced in his head, about three women named Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos who spun lives like thread and cut them at the proper length. Those stories had scared him back then, but now he thought the idea was almost comforting--if only because it meant that someone else had to deal with the responsibility of deciding how long humans or nations should live. But now it wasn't Atropos the Fate cutting off a life... he himself had just done that, literally. Clotho, Lachesis, and... Astrit? He recoiled from the thought. It sickened him in a way that he didn't dare find words for. Only a second had passed. The boy glanced over at the Prussian's body, from which still seeped scarlet liquid even though there could not be enough left to sustain even the most basic semblance of life for more than a few seconds longer. Astrit was the only living thing left in that room, with the possible (but, given the manor's nature, hardly certain) exception of the beasts beneath the floor that vied for a taste of spilled blood. But what was that happening on the wall beyond? The boy could not have known the exact moment that Gilbert died, but the Manor knew--and in that moment, before his astonished eyes, a door faded into being in the wall. A way out, for the remorseful victor. It was the way out that he had been fighting for, and yet... In those last few moments, Astrit had realized that he had a great deal of respect for this man who had been all but unknown to him at the beginning of their fight, who could have and maybe should have killed him. Even in his numb state he remained aware of why he had wanted to live, but it shocked him that he had managed it... and at what a cost, to the point that he wasn't convinced he wanted to go anywhere. All the energy that had sustained him during the fight had drained away, and what was left was an empty need to... to apologize, or something. Like the salute he had made, he wanted to do something to appease this dreadful debt he found himself owing. His thoughts were confused now. Marshalling them into something that seemed like a straighter line, he asked himself what he was staying here to do. Say goodbye; demonstrate respect for his life, a part of his mind that kept its sanity in the comfort of denial replied clinically. Astrit could do that. It would prove that he still had something redeemable about him, if he could make some sign of mourning. He approached the corpse of the man he had killed, which lay facedown in an unnatural position on the grate from having died crouching. That wasn't right. Astrit took hold of Gilbert's arm--with a right hand that was covered in the man's own blood, but it didn't really make a mark; whatever the man had come wearing appeared to have initially been red anyway--and with some effort turned him over. Carefully, as respectfully as he could, he arranged the body of his former enemy in a more dignified position. That was better. If he could have cried, this would have been the time. He supposed that this was the closest thing that Gilbert would get to a funeral, and nobody even knew to mourn except for a little boy who until the Prussian had started trying to kill him had barely been aware of his existence. Still, he would have to do the best he could... because what else could he do? All he could do was stammer out an old blessing that his sister had taught him, and wish he could cry. Long moments of silence passed, and Astrit started to think aloud, addressing the corpse. "I never really knew much about you, but I think maybe I would have liked you," he mused, shifting rapidly among the several languages he knew as he spoke. "And maybe you would have liked me, if we had met somewhere where we weren't introduced by being told to kill each other. Or did you like me anyway? I'm only alive because you let me win--but why?" There was no answer, of course. Even the monsters were quiet, as if they were listening, or more cruelly denying Astrit anything that might even sound like an answer. Like they wanted to make him feel alone and afraid--and, given the place, they might indeed have had that very design. "I don't understand," the boy concluded disconsolately. "If we meet in heaven--"--that condition, he left unspoken, required that they could get to heaven from here, and that they were not already in hell, and he was now frighteningly uncertain that those assumptions held true--"--I hope you'll explain it to me then." The broadsword still lay on the metal grate where Gilbert had dropped it. The idea had already entered Astrit's mind that maybe he could use it if he survived. Now he thought of just leaving it there, as something like a grave ornament. The weapon would be a nice symbol of how the Prussian soldier had lived... He couldn't, though. There were monsters here. There wasn't really anything he could do about Gilbert's body--if the monsters left it alone it would rest like this, and if not there was nothing he could do to stop what they might do--but the idea of some thing getting ahold of a sword and perhaps using it to harm the survivors did not sit well with him. It would be just like the things that inhabited this place to make use of the weapon if he did not, and probably to attack him with it specifically just to mock him. Disgusting thoughts. Dropping his bloodied knife into his pocket, Astrit tried to lift the sword with both hands. He could pick it up, though it was much heavier than he had thought. Gilbert must have been very strong to carry it so easily. But it was moveable. It was time to leave, now. There was nothing left for the living here, and somehow Astrit was indeed alive. Even if it was impossible... he had to go, through the door that had not been there during the fight. He had to keep surviving the way he always did. He had to go find his sister, if he could, to speak with her. As abrasive as she could be, she would be stronger and wiser than he was, and she was the closest family he had. She was probably still alive, he had already persuaded himself of that, and wherever she was, she was not here. Having thus persuaded himself, the boy took one last backward glance at the corpse lying peacefully on the floor, then crossed to the door and pushed it open.

OOC Information

Koko

Skype name: AletheaChristianCat

A dog walks into a bar and hops up on a stool. He looks the bartender in the eye and says, "Hey, guess what? I can talk. Have you ever seen a talking dog before? How about a drink?" The bartender thinks for a moment and says, "Sure, the toilet's right around the corner."

"Is there an airport nearby, or is that my heart taking off?"

made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND