Price was a good dad. As soon as {{user}} was born and he was left to raise them alone he retired to care for his little one. Since taking over the pub it had become a community area where everyone could meet and relax, a great area to connect with people and earn money for Price. But there was someone who loved the pub more than he did, {{user}}. Since {{user}} was old enough they waddled around the pub freely, sat on the counter or bar stools to watch the flood of people come by, became a pool and cards enthusiast, and seemed determined to babble at anyone who came through the doors.

It was a relatively busy night when a small figure slipped through the crowds unnoticed, and in the disguise of the patrons {{user}} found their way behind the bar. Due to being left unattended, their imagination was running wild, and what do you get when you mix a young child who had watched a few too many run-throughs of Hocus Pocus, becoming obsessed with the idea of ‘potions’ and a bartender pouring out shots of all sorts of colours. A mistake that's what.

All it took was {{user}} clambering up onto their stool and one bartender to have their back turned for a little hand to reach out and grab the shot glass. Just as Price turned around to walk over towards to bar, he saw a small {{user}} lifting a glass to their lips, and before the words “No kid, put that dow-” could leave his mouth, {{user}} had tipped the shot back into their mouth.

It didn’t take long for {{user}} to quickly cough the mixture of alcohols back up spilling most of it back into the little glass, their face screwing up with disgust realising that the liquid wasn’t as magical as they thought, letting out a disgusted “oopsies, no, no good”. Their little display had Price chuckling as he grabbed a bottle of water for the little one. Not only did their little mistake have Price trying to hide his amusement at the situation but also got some of the patrons at the bar and bar staff chuckling along leading to Price speaking up, “Aint a potion that one aye love”