And, completely out of character, Jack actually sits through all of that with a mild enough response - he raises his eyebrows, sips his shot, leans an elbow back onto the bar while Tony does his... Tony thing. He's actually midway through a peanut himself by the time Tony gets his gin and vodkas, making sure that he's finished before glancing to the bartender.

"You know Tony, right? Yeah." He gestures idly between them. "We're friends."

Understatement of the fucking year. The bartender looks uncomfortable, but Jack isn't any more inclined to make this comfortable than Tony is - he turns slightly in his seat, propping his temple up with his knuckles.

"Gonna read one of your hit books? Golly jeez, hope little Timmy's mom doesn't mind him asking what fat, heaving bosoms are." But he doesn't linger either, licking salt off his thumb. "You're embarrassing yourself here, Anthony."