"The Allies triumphed! Today the beer is on the house!"
The bartender rolled up his sleeves and placed mug after mug of foamy beer onto the counter, prompting an eruption of cheers.
News of victory spread, and Moscow was wholly engulfed in jubilant celebrations. Everyone revelled in the successful counterattack by the Allies, singing, dancing, and releasing the pent-up tension of long days past.
The sound of a harmonica filled the air, and a young man began tap-dancing under the gaze of an enthralled crowd. His agile steps beat rhythmic taps against the floorboards. Amid the laughter and applause, Marvin slipped quietly into the tavern, weaving through clusters of singers, grabbed a mug of free beer, and took a seat in front of an elderly man whose hair had gone white.
"Mind sharing a table? There's no empty space left."
Without even glancing at Marvin, the elderly man, still watching the young dancer in the crowd, agreed readily.
"He dances well," Marvin suddenly remarked.
