(Untitled)

[tinsoldiered]

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[waggishhumor]

Getting dressed had taken no time at all, because Brad was just loafing around the "living room" (re; the entire apartment) watching old repeats of Magnum P.I. when his dear cousin had informed him of the plan. Throwing on a shirt and a pair of pants, Brad had made the phone call to the pizza parlor and waited around until the delivery fool showed up and Brad made sure to tip the kid a whole dollar, 'cause he wasn't cheap. Luckily for Brad, everything after that went pretty smoothly, Charles had still swung by to pick him up with a car rather full of groceries (Brad was forced to sit in the back) and Brad never had the chance to see the boot on his baby. Had he had the chance to see it, you might imagine the two cousins going somewhere very different - one of them to jail, and one of them to the ICU

[hatesbears]

What an adventure, gang. Having spent the last hour and a half wandering the streets of Chinatown, maybe or maybe not stopping every five minutes to wander into a shop and ask the if they sold cat meat (Harrison Tweed, feel yourself lucky that apparently no restaurant in Chinatown sold what was obviously a staple in the Chinese diet), Rose had sobered to the point where she could walk in semi-straight line back to Jess's apartment. Well, sort of. There may have been one or two drunken falls, and a whole lot of looking up at the sky as she tried to get up and swearing at The Guy Upstairs. Because clearly he was to fault for her alcohol induced lack of ability to walk around a corner and not slip on the ice. But bare footed, wearing very little other than some sort of stretch-lycra mini-dress, she had finally made her triumphant return with chocolate biscuits and four more bottles of tequila

[antibyron]

[bramblesgaveway]

[tinsoldiered]

[waggishhumor]

Unfortunately, Brad lost the overtly dramatic eye-roll Charlie had managed to practice quite often, just in case he ever got the chance to use it on Brad. All of his practice was for naught as Brad's attention was quite clearly elsewhere. Which is to say, he was looking at Rose. A lot of Rose. Being a good liar was one thing, but Brad couldn't hide his surprise as the scantily clad very young woman continued to croon his cousin's name. He didn't think Charlie had it in him, matter of fact, he didn't want to picture anything of his cousin's in anything at all, either. Looking very directly at Charles, he also raised his eyebrows, also very directly. He also wiggled them. Directly. Breaking his gaze, he looked back over at Rose, and down at Rose (directly, again, but discreetly, too) but he was interrupted from his ... thoughts by the sudden appearance of a rather sweaty man

[hatesbears]

There was a time and place for snorted laughter; seeing something get run over? A-okay. Watching adult males cry? Certainly. Making Napoleon want to roofie himself to forget the sight of her asscheeks? Fuck YES. And laughing hard, almost dropping the tequila filled bag, it was very possible she may have almost peed herself a little bit, had it not been for the distraction of Jess's apparent collapse.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST. What are we, on a soap opera?" People collapsing, a cripple playing Romeo, Napoleon being fugly, it was like an episode of All My Children right there and then. God, she fucking hoped Napoleon ended up having a tranny breakdown and revealing he had a penis. But picking up the dropped bags of food, making VERY SURE to bend over right in front of everyone's favorite club owner as she reached down for the groceries, it was time to get drunk. And food'd. Just so she could handle this little Charlie/Jess love fest without puking up her lungs. Finding a free corner, the bags were dumped; because, obviously, walking to

[antibyron]

[bramblesgaveway]

[tinsoldiered]