"I don't think petrol pub sells," he squinted, eyes drawn to the cup and fingers twitching with interest. "Maybe with a new slogan, 'Petrol Pub; refill the gas in your body!' - But maybe people will take to farting." Which, he supposed, would too be bad for business. Curiosity had moved his legs to the stand without much thought, shifting his weight from one leg to another as he simply watched. Perhaps he should say something. "Should you be serving this coffee thing out in this weather?" His eyes finally looked at the other with a blink, head tilting to the side softly. "How long are you here for? Perhaps I could help."
"Oh, I didn't even think about the misunderstanding," Fionn frowned. A coffee station with an aroma of farts didn't sound particularly appealing, to be fair. "But maybe we could market it as a super super expensive rare new type of coffee bean which just so happens to having a tasting note of, um, methane?" Come to think of it, he wasn't sure that would catch on, either. He was weighing up the pros and cons in his head when Lorcan spoke again and Fionn's nose scrunched up in abject confusion. "Um, is the weather meant to be bad?" He'd only learned about the tidal wave about ten minutes into his shift, to be fair, and had thought the gas station set up was just a fun and interesting new business venture. "That's really nice of you-?"

















