As he approached the mysterious girl, Thomas could hear the drone of the crowd and music from the street begin the quiet. He kept his eyes locked on hers as her grin continued to welcome him closer. When he was was within a foot of her, she opened the door by which she stood and stepped inside. The door left open as if to welcome Thomas in.

Thomas stopped just ever-so-briefly and thought about following this girl, but then Ryan’s words echoed in mind. He took a deep breath and spoke to himself.

“Lay say less Bon temps Rooler.” The bastardized creole fell from his lips. As he reached and pulled the door open and followed.

Thomas stepped through the threshold and couldn’t believe his eyes. A, seemingly, never ending staircase descended below. Only lit by torches – it reminded him of something from a cheap Disney ride. With his first step, the door closed behind him. The sounds of revelry complete stopping. Only the sound of a small breeze and soft humming could be heard.

Thomas held his breath as he descended the staircase.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked himself in an attempt to get his body to stop, but it was no use as his feet continued down each stair-step. The air was musty, but not unpleasant to breathe in. It smelled slightly of cinnamon. Finally, after what seemed like minutes of descending the stairs, Thomas was greeted with what looked to be another bar, though empty. He sighed.

“Fucking tourist trip.” He clenched his fist in anger.

“Look.” He spoke aloud to the empty room, “I get that speakeasies are the cool thing nowadays, but this was a stupid way to get a customer.” He began to turn to leave, but stopped as the girl in green seemingly materialized from nowhere.

“Sir. That was not my intention at all.” The girl’s accent dripped like honey, filling Thomas ears and making his head heavy with drowsiness. It was if she was plucked from an antebellum play.

Thomas felt his attitude change unexpectedly. His body loosened. “Oh. Apologies.” Was all he could say.

“I merely found your look interesting and wanted to get to know you better.” The girl motioned to the bar top on the far side of the room.

Thomas, still not in control of his feet, walked slowly over and took a seat. His new host stepped behind the counter and began making drink.

“So….” Thomas struggled for words. Combined with the sudden change in scenary and the drowsiness, his mind scrambled. “Who is my host?” he attempted to emulate the girl’s speech pattern. This earned a laugh.

“Your host is, I. But, more specifically, I am Dorothée Fontenot…”

Thomas remained quite, entranced in Dorothée’s accent

“But you may call me Dory.” She turned her head and smiled.

“Certainly, Dory.”

“Thanks, Thomas.” Dory replied, earning a slight startled from Thomas.

“How did you…?” Thomas’ voice trailed off as he still struggled to think.

“Oh, your raucous friend is quite the talker.” She replied.

Thomas laughed, “Ohhh. Ryan? Yeah. Sometimes that guy doesn’t know just how loud he is.”

Dory turned and smiled silently. She placed a small glass in front of her guest.

Thomas looked at it cautiously.

“A New Orleans original. Sazerac Cocktail.” She hoped to assuage Thomas.

Thomas lifted the glass to his face. In the dim candle-lit room, he could make out a dark liquor with other liquids dancing within. He tilted his head back, but was stop.

“Careful now. That’s a sippin drink. You drink one too many of those too fast and you’ll be face down in a gutter before you know it.” Dory spoke.

Thomas, slightly embarrassed, lowered the glass and raised it in a toast.

Within Dory’s right hand, a near identical drink toasted back.

Thomas thought it was funny as he didn’t recall her having or making a drinking for herself, but he shrugged. He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped slowly. He then pulled the glass from his mouth and licked his lips.

“That…is different…” He laughed, earning a laugh in return from his host.

“And that means what, Mr. Abernathy?” Dory spoke Thomas’ last name without him noticing.

“That means it’s good!” He felt his body began to ease.

The two remained in silence for the next few minutes as Thomas took a couple more sips. Finally, he placed his drink down and looked at Dory. “I have so many questions right now.”

Dory smiled and nodded. Her green eyes still hidden behind her mask.

“I’ve earned this bar for generations…” She began. Thomas once again missing the details in her speech. “And each Mardi Gras I always try to find a nice young man to join me for a private event. Somebody who is a virgin…”

“Wait wait. I had a girlfriend in college and uh…” Thomas tried to interrupt Dory.

“Not like that silly. Now, if you don’t mind.” She raised an unseen eyebrow to Thomas who relented the floor to Dory. “…A virgin to the spirit of Mardi Gras. Somebody untouched by the spirit of the season. The debauchery. The joy of their fellow man and woman. The just all out fun!” Dory sipped from her own glass, giving Thomas a chance to reply.

“And what made you pick me out to be your guest this year?” Thomas mirrored Dory with a sip from his own glass.

“Oh, sugar.” Dory’s voice caused Thomas to shiver in satisfaction. “I’ve seen so many men like you come and go. You don’t know how to give up and let the waves take you. You’re always trying to control your fate when your fate was decided the minute you were born…” Dory’s voice began to grow more sinister, yet sultry.

Thomas could feel himself grow lightheaded as Dory continued to speak.

“You need to learn how to have a good time and, ever since Napoleon was around, I’ve made it my goal to do such. To teach you men of the world that good times can be had without you in control. Heck, that it may be better to give the reigns over to somebody always. They’ll take you places you could never dream of…”

Thomas’ eyes grew heavy as Dory leaned closer. Her thick ruby-red lips mere centimeters from his own face. She leaned in and gave him a soft peck. This pushed Thomas from the stool on which he sat.

“Easier than catching crawfish with bacon.” Dory finished her drink and stood on her tip-toes. She glanced over the bar to where Thomas fell over. However, here eyes were met with a pile of the man’s clothes, but caught movement.

“Oh. Now you’re going to experience what Mardi Gras is all about, Mr.Abernathy…”