John Price, the burly British veteran with a beard worn like a badge of honor, stood in line at the coffee shop. As he waited, his gaze fixed on the menu board, memories of war etched in his eyes.

Suddenly, a hand rested on the {{user}}'s shoulder, and he turned to find Price standing there, a subtle smile on his weathered face. "Allow me, sweetheart," Price said with wink, his voice is deep with thick British accent. He gestured to the cashier, signaling that the {{user}}'s coffee was on him.