32nd Inning

[freakinblur]

[There's something going on outside 1451 Mitchell today! Two people, specifically Scout and Ema Skye, are sitting at a card table at what looks to be a lemonade stand. Except it's not a lemonade stand. There's a hastily-made, messy sign hanging up front reading "DELICIOUS HOMEMADE LIQ DRINKS, 5 CENTS". There's several pitchers and cups out on

Comments

[buildstherobots]

[Dist is feeling pretty good about himself! He finally defeated his hated nemesis, and if there was going to be cheap liquor, well, who was he to complain? He could smell the alcohol from the street.]

And what's this, then?

[freakinblur]

Hey. It's booze! I mean. Lemonade. Yeah. Juice. [He giggles.]

Ya want some? Only 5 cents!

[glowing_science]

Yes, juice. [Also giggles. Man, they are so drunk.]

I bet even weirdo like you would like it~

[buildstherobots]

I'm not a weirdo and you know it!

[He only huffs for a moment, though, before pulling out a dollar and handing it over.]

I don't have change. I just guess that means I get as much as I want.

[Codeine? Pain medication for his eye? What's that?]

[freakinblur]

YEAH. 'S all yers, lady! [H-he's really drunk, okay. He takes the dollar and stuffs it in his pocket.] Ya can have the sample 'a everythin'!

[glowing_science]

[And Ema just cracks the hell up at the gender confusion.]

Yeah, lady, help yourself!

[buildstherobots]

I'm not a lady! I'm just gorgeous.

[He tosses his hair dismissively, then takes one of the plastic cups and knocks back... well, more of it in one go than one might expect from a man his size.]

[freakinblur]

[Squiiiiints at you.]

Yeah. Ya don't SOUND like a lady.

[Being homemade booze, it's kinda of a gamble... this one's a little weak and tastes more like fruit juice than booze.]

[glowing_science]

Ladyyyyyyyyyyy. [Still laughing at you, Dist.]

[buildstherobots]

This is hardly alcoholic.

[Dist gives Ema a flawless stink-eye.]

I suppose you wouldn't be the best judge of femininity; you're fairly masculine.

[freakinblur]

[Scout sniffs at the cup.] Aw geez. Ema we gotta a dud here. [He fumbles around and hands you something that practically smells like rubbing alcohol.]

Here, try thi-

Hey! Ya can't have any if yer gonna be insultin' the staff, awright?

[glowing_science]

[Ema's own glare is much less flawlessly executed, but that doesn't make it any less vicious. She slams her hands on the table and stands up, trying to make herself more imposing.

The wobble only somewhat hinders the effect.]

Take that back!

[buildstherobots]

[Dist takes a long drink and shudders, though he doesn't take much time to dwell on it. He pays Scout's comment absolutely no mind.]

No, I won't! You think you can insult me without consequence? You're an idiot!

[freakinblur]

Awright buddy, yer cut off! [Scout attempts to scramble over the table and grab the cup back from Dist.]

[glowing_science]

[Ema just sticks her tongue out at Dist, content to let Scout do the cutting off.]

[buildstherobots]

[Oh, Dist won't abide that. He scowls and throws the cup at Ema in response to the taunt before Scout can get a hold of it.]