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"Wait, what do you mean you don't have beer?" Liz leaned over the bar and scanned the well. What party bar didn't have at least Bud Light?

"I'm so sorry, we only have liquor, wine..." the young woman desperately trying to run the bar by herself looked panicked, thinking she had pissed off the best actress winner already.

"Scotch?" an older man in a brocade tuxedo jacket asked Liz, gently placing his arm around her shoulders.

"I like beer," Liz grumbled but gave the poor bartender an apologetic smile.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers can they?" the older man replied, finally getting Liz to look at him. "Let Uncle Bill make you a drink, huh?"

Liz let him lead her behind the bar and wondered how gauche it would be if she asked Bill Murray to call her father, who she was sure was his biggest fan. She watched him line up two crystal cut tumblers and peruse the expansive selection of liquors lined up on a glowing shelf.

"You know," he said as he chose a bottle of expensive scotch, "I've been asking to work with you."

"I'd love to work with you," Liz said quickly, completely forgetting that she was ready to turn her back on this business and never look back.

"I never ask to work with someone," he said smoothly, pouring more than a few fingers of scotch into the glasses while ignoring the photographer that was snapping away on the other side of the bar. Liz accepted the drink from him with a quiet smile, clinking her glass against his in a toast. "I think you should be in comedy," he said finally, watching her closely as she took a sip.

"I think several people would disagree," Liz replied.

Bill looked momentarily shocked and Liz wondered if it was because no one disagreed with the almighty Bill Murray. "Fuck those people," he said simply as if it were that easy.

Liz waited until the photographer was out of earshot before replying, "I'm actually getting out of the business."

He nodded, looking like he understood her plight, "Can't hang?"

Liz laughed a little, "I cannot."

"I'm going to send you a script," he smiled, "No pressure, but at least promise me you'll read it."

Liz straightened up from the bar back she was leaning against and held out her hand, "I promise."

He looked from her hand to her face, grinning brightly as he firmly shook her hand.

"Liz?"

She turned slowly to a bewildered Taylor and Ally as they stood in front of the bar looking between her and Bill.

"Hi!" she cried, "Need a drink?"

They both nodded, their jaws still slack as Liz and Bill set to work making drinks for whoever wandered up to the bar. The novelty of the night's best actress winner and a comedy legend making drinks for fellow partygoers quickly spread throughout the immediate crowd and before long the little bar was surrounded by people. Liz was uncorking a white wine when she realized that Bill was just pouring tequila shots despite what people were actually ordering.

"Bill!" she laughed.

"What are you a bartender?" he smiled and set two tequila shots on the bar top for people to take.

"I'm only licensed in Oregon," she replied, setting the wine in the ice well.

"Is that where I'm sending your script?" he asked, giving up on pouring tequila shots.

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