vatheon | things that can only end well: THIS

"Yeah. Dude's real powerful. He's got major influence all over the world, that douche. And his burgers taste like shit." With that, he sets the empty shotglass down and reaches for the next one. Careful Sufferer, you're falling behind.

"But is he a clown, or is he a burger?" Important questions! Sufferer sees he's falling behind though, and quickly quaffs the orange shot and reaches for the next one. "I thought Earth wasn't as dangerous as Alternia."

"What?" He pauses for a second, frowning. Then he shakes his head. "No, man. He's a clown selling burgers. Burgers can't be clowns. Clowns can be burgers, I guess, but only after they're dead."

Morbid? Nah. Funny is the word that applies here.

Sufferer laughs at that, and it makes his head spin. He doesn't pick up another shot, instead opting for some peanuts. Maaaaaybe it's time to tone it down a little. "That's gross. Clown burgers." Giggle. "I bet they'd taste funny."

Ohoh, Sufferer's seeking protection from the peanuts. Bro's got this shot contest in the bag, now. He just needs to... Which shot was he gonna go for again? His hand hovers indecisively in front of the remaining spectrum, his brain struggling to stick with the program. Come on, now. ...Light blue. Yes. Going with light blue.

... Oh right. They were talking about clown burgers. "Bet they'd taste like cream pies, balloons and foam. With some colorful wig hair sprayed all over it, maybe."

Sufferer has to put his head down on the table for a minute, but that doesn't mean he can't still eat peanuts and go for the next shot. He'll just get peanut shells on the floor and slop pucker on the bar. Yeah, Bro might have him beaten in the drinking contest.

"I don't think those tastes would go well together...." And now pouring a shot into the side of his mouth.

He pauses, the light blue shot halfway to his mouth, to watch the Sufferer. He's pretty sure it doesn't count if it doesn't get swallowed and with the way it's being poured, half of the troll's shot is going straight to the floor. There's a nasty taste brooding in the back of his mouth, but if he manages to down this blue bugger, he's practically the winner.

Okay, don't barf. Don't think about that ominous feeling of nausea. Don't think about burgers with colorful clown pubes sprinkled all over- oh goddammit now he's thinking about it. His eyes close and he draws a deep breath through his nose. Just give him a second, he's got this.

Wait, that's what those weird little things are on the top of burger buns? Sufferer needs to have a talk with Gamzee and Kurloz about this, he's not sure he buys your story!

Sufferer drops the shot glass that held the blue shot, and it rolls across the bar. His mouth doesn't taste like delicious sweet liqueur goodness anymore; it tastes like ass. Sour, smelly ass. He rolls his eyes to look up at Bro, and wow, amazing, there's like three Bros right now. How is he doing that, and why won't he stop, he's just making everything feel woozier.

"Uh... might be time to go find some bushes." Or he can throw up right here. That is also an option.

Edited 2013-07-16 20:23 (UTC)

"Yeah, just... Just gimme a sec here." Bro's resolve to finish this last shot is strong, but so's the nausea that's trying to overwhelm him. He will succeed, dammit!

In one fluid motion, he puts the shotglass to his lips and tilts his head back to empty it. The liquid goes down in one great gulp and his throat burns a little in the aftermath, but hey, at least that's over with. Nasty, colorful, sugary victory. The glass gets slammed down on the counter and he tries to slide off his barstool again, his hand on the bar surface for support.

Sufferer winces when Bro slams down that shot glass, the sound reverberating through the bar and sounding extra loud. He slowly sits up, clinging to the bar for support, not even aware that he just lost the shot contest. "Uh... yeah."

He manages to get up and onto his feet, but he's wobbling all over, and well aware that he's not leaving the bar under his own steam tonight. "Bro... I think I'm drunk." Very, very drunk.

Wow, look at all that wobbling. Is Bro wobbling like that too? He's pretty sure he's not, but with the wooziness it's hard to tell. ... Naaahh, he's probably fine, himself.

"No shit, Sherlock." His hand releases the bar counter and he takes a step away from it. Yup, he can stand, hence he's fine. "That's what happens when you go out drinking with someone and you end up downing like five nasty fruit shots in a row. You get real fuckin' drunk."

"Yeah." The whole thing strikes Sufferer as hilarious, and he starts giggling to himself. "Oh man, Dualscar is going to be pissed." Mostly because Sufferer went out drinking without him.

Okay, time to let go of the bar and stand under his own power. Slowly, slooooowly, yep, doing good, gonna make it... and then Sufferer overbalances and starts to topple. Blindly, he grabs out at Bro for support.

Dualscar? Who is this Dualscar guy he keeps hearing about, anyway? Every time he thinks he's met pretty much all the trolls in Vatheon, he hears about another one. Shit's insane.

He was just spacing out a little when the Sufferer's hands suddenly make a snatch at him. The instinct to flashstep out of the way is too late to save him now, as fingers curl around his upper arms and the troll's full weight topples into him. He staggers backwards clumsily amidst fluent cursing, but manages to stop himself from crashing to the ground by grabbing the barstool behind him with one hand.

Come on, man, it's not his full weight! Just... most of it.

Sufferer staggers, Bro's very impressive cursing coming to him through a daze, and eventually gets his feet under him. He's still leaning heavily on Bro, though, afraid that if he lets him go he's going to slither straight to the floor and end up staying there.

"Uh... thanks."

Nope. Nope nope nope, Bro will have none of that. Once he's sure his stance is steady, he releases the bar stool and moves both hands up to Sufferer's shoulders to try and push him back.

"Jesus, and here you said you could hold your fucking liquor."

Sufferer stumbles back when Bro pushes him, nearly getting tangled up in his cloak--damn thing is practically a cape, why does he wear stuff that's practically capes, that is just bad business sense right there--but manages to catch the bar and keep from going down. The whole thing strikes him as hilarious and those giggles from earlier start up again, louder and more raucous this time.

"Didn't think... didn't think you'd try and keep up so hard..."

Good. With the Sufferer holding onto the bar, Bro can take a step back without having to worry about the dude falling to the ground. The drunken giggles invoke a grin from him, because... goddamn, what is even going on. This whole thing is both ridiculous and hilarious.

"This is what happens when you challenge a Strider. We're fighters and we play to win."

"Lesson learned... never challenge a Strider."

He didn't really learn a lesson; he'll challenge Striders again in the future.

Sufferer pushes himself off the bar, and although he wobbles, he can stay upright under his own power. "Let's go to White Sand Castle. I want some of those tiny burgers they have there."

Hm... Burgers. That's either a brilliant idea or a terrible idea. Bro's stomach can't quite seem to decide. Or perhaps his stomach has decided, but the message can't make it all the way up to his brain to get processed. Only one way to find out, he supposes.

"Sure, let's go. If you can walk, anyway. I'm not about to carry your drunk ass over there."

White Sand Castle burgers are always a good idea when plastered. This is just a universal truth.

This is because they don't burn when they come back up.

"I can walk!" To prove it, Sufferer slowly wanders out the front door of the bar. He's swaying quite a bit, and is incapable of walking in a straight line, but he's moving and not expecting Bro to carry him. This is an accomplishment.

If he's not falling over, that's good enough for Bro. He strides after the Sufferer, swaying a bit himself. Determined as he is to keep himself walking in a straight line, his steps occasionally stray a bit too far to the side as well. It doesn't escape his notice and he makes a mental note to practice the art of downing shots so he can build up a better tolerance to it.

Sufferer, on the other hand, is completely satisfied to veer and weave all over the sidewalk. What's the point of getting plastered if you can't make an ass of yourself afterwards? Besides, the stumbling and staggering is keeping him from needing to throw up in the bushes.

He ends up taking the long way to the burger joint, because he maybe totally forgets where it is. Good thing Vatheon isn't so big that he can't find it eventually.

While Bro kind of gets the feeling that the Sufferer is missing all the good shortcuts to White Sand Castle, he doesn't comment on it. He's content to just walk through the cool evening air for a bit longer anyway. It beats stuffy food establishments.

The walk helps Sufferer sober up a little, and by the time they arrive, he's not quite as close to tossing his cookies as he had been. "Here it is!" Leaving Bro behind him, he staggers inside and promptly orders thirty sliders.

Looks like the evening may have accidentally turned into an eating contest.

Bro takes his time with striding after the Sufferer, still not seeing much of a need to hurry. That is, until he realizes the dude just ordered thirty hamburgers. Fuck. Sure, those things are tiny, but he's not sure if his stomach can handle fifteen or more of them.

"Seriously dude? You plannin' on eating all that?"

things that can only end well: THIS

Hamburglar ftw

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Hahaha dat icon

I used to have a gif one that bounced!

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