Under Hickey’s influence, nearly all the characters begin to confront the stories that have long kept them afloat. Saloon proprietor Harry (a mercurial, blustery Rodney Bonds) hasn’t left the building since his wife died 20 years before; Hickey convinces him he must step outside, and immediately. Harvard Law School alumnus Willie (Rodney Bonds’ son, Ian Bonds, a hilarious, baby-faced drunk with a penchant for song) finds himself on his way to ask for a job from the District Attorney, a fool’s errand but one he’s long deluded himself into thinking he’d successfully pursue. Hickey berates bartender Rocky (Frank Vince, who pulls off a convincing thick Brooklyn accent) into realizing that he is a pimp, a fact he has never wanted to face. (Of his “hoo-ahhs,” Rocky had previously told himself this: “[It’s s]trictly business, like dey was fighters and I was deir manager, see?”) One by one, the men follow Hickey’s lead, and one by one they return to the bar, in a worse state than ever. Now, even alcohol is no comfort. “There’s no life or kick in it anymore,” complains Harry, having ventured briefly outside and fled, terrified and defeated, back to the bar. One begins to realize what a beautiful, hopeful place the saloon was prior to Hickey’s arrival.