Drabble: Julius Caesar Drunk of his Arse in a Pub

"Someone's having a good time," Lacey commented.

There was a lone pub on the derelict estate. A loud male voice could be heard singing.

"Bibit ille, bibit illa,
Bibit serves cum ancilla,"

"That's Latin," said Tremayne, surprised.

"How I miss the benefits of a classical education."

The two women exchanged glances and then hurriedly entered the pub.

---

"You didn't think to contact someone?" demanded Tremayne gesturing at the large be-toga-ed man seated at the bar, laurel-wreath slightly askew.

The landlord shrugged. "These are solid gold," he brandished an aureus, "and he seems harmless enough. Catch me turning down good custom."