The bar was half full, or more so it was half empty, depending on how you feel. Alive with patrons of various races clinking drinks and mixing stories. A tall, handsome orc (or as handsome as one can be) surrounded by a harem of women at a corner table, a few spaces down a group of sharply dressed dwarves in booster seats downed liquor like water, and behind the bar the resident bartender mixed drinks with a skill that only came with years of practice.

A few friendly faces watched on at the bar as the pointy eared green man flicked a cup up in the air and caught it once again. They clapped softly, and though he appreciated it, the goblin preferred cash. So as they showered him with love he pointed down to a little handmade sign on the counter that read Your praise is great! But your money is better.

As he did though his eyes caught sight of a new group entering. Sort of the "after school special" bunch, he thought, mixed with a variety of races and colors. A tall, lizardish man with green scales, a shorter human with wide features, and a rarity in the world: a blue skinned, half genie. He stared on as they took their seats, hoping by the sleekness of their dress that tips were coming his way. From the group the genie spawn wandered over to the bar first and took a seat right up front.

"What can I do ya for?", the goblin spoke without looking up.

"A martini. Dry....uhhhh Sandoval Drinkmaker" the djinn read off his little nametag.

"Sure, one second."

This was an untrue statement from Sandoval for two reasons: one because it would in fact not be one second. Two, because he was unsure how to tell the patron that no matter what his impressive spread of spirits appeared as, not a single one was "dry". All wet. In fact every drink that the goblin could recall making in his entire life had been wet.

He gave the djinn a crooked smile before slinking down behind the bar. Now on the floor the goblin began rummaging through shelves for any clues as to how a "dry" drink was made. Cups, glasses, cherries in a jar, no hints.

"Everything alright down there?" the djinn spoke over the bar

"Yeah just...you said dry right?"

"Yeah. That a problem?"

"Well- no, nope. Shouldn't be. No problem at all." Sandoval thought of the tip jar as motivation.

The goblins little palms sweated. His brain frantically ran through every option at his disposal until he settled on one: flash. With a little flash you could mess up nearly any drink and the customer rarely complained. It was a free show after all.

Sandoval returned from the floor with ingredients already in a shaker. Gin and vermouth, easy as could be. He tossed the shaker up in the air and caught it despite the sweat of his hands. Then after a few good shakes the goblin reached into a tray and plopped a piece of smoky ice in. The djinn looked unimpressed, but he did look, which was all that mattered.

Then Sandoval took a fresh cup and poured just the smoky air from the shaker into the glass. Not a single drop of liquid. Just alcoholic vapor. After a long, silent moment of the vapor trailing into the glass the goblin presented it.

"Your martini, dry sir."

"It's empty. Where the drink? Is this a joke?" The djinns white hair blew as if caught in a breeze. Its clothes rustled despite no wind.

"Empty? No no no. Dry." Sandoval winked then slowly inched the empty glass to the man. "Now if you'll excuse me it's my break. He placed a small tent on the counter that read *Be back soon, probably!" before turning and walking out in a rush, all the while thinking of his genius.

Meanwhile the djinn sat in disbelief, staring down to the empty glass, then up to the shaker filled with an actual martini. He grabbed it and poured himself a real drink and took a sip. His face contorted a bit, scrunched in dissatisfaction. "Ick! Too much vermouth."