Hips, on the other hand, is sleeping the sleep of the dead/just/drunk/pick your own cliché and insert it there.
She is also grasping, in a hand dangling off the side of the sofa, a traffic cone. It is apparently a multiversal rule that, no matter where you are in the civilized universe, after a real bender of a night, you must come home with a traffic cone.
She doesn't even twitch. Or snore. She does, on the other hand, drool a bit. Attractive!
Yes, well, that's sort of the point of drunken late night traffic cone-napping operations, isn't it? You're never supposed to remember the details of the snatch. It's sort of like drunken tattoos. Part of the fun is wondering why the hell you thought it was such a brilliant idea to get the words "LIVE FAST DIE PRETTY" inked on your backside.
When Hips throws a bachelorette party, she does not naff about, kids.
Eiko doesn't quite have a tattoo on her butt. On the other hand, as she realizes, one of her hands has been painted, up to the elbow, with henna, in rather an intricate style. And she doesn't remember that either.
Hips will be the go-to person for organizing such bacchanals in the future. Possibly on a professional level.
Frankly, Eiko's going to have to work hard to match this when the time comes for Hips...
She makes a face, tightening her neck, rolling her eyes up and to the side, and grinning in a downward way. Everybody knows that look, right?
"But it was necessary to the revelry. I couldn't very well throw a bachelorette party without mentioning salacious details. And I can't believe I just used the word salacious in my state. Be nice to me, Ramon, I've got a hangover. And a traffic cone."
Then she reaches a lazy hand out over the back of the sofa toward him.
Ramon's answer to Hips' plea for bacon is to eventually scoot his plate further away from her, safely on the other side of him, while looking at her with suspicion.
"No. No hints. Hippolyta seems to increasingly have this problem with keeping her mouth shut about what goes on in our bedroom, so this one chance to keep it that someone who heard it all now doesn't remember it? Golden opportunity, my friend.
"And in terms of acting out, there wasn't a lot. You both thought you were going to catch a shower, then changed your minds, then thought you'd end the evening with a movie and more drinking, and then the two of your were happily passed out on the sofa. There was also repeated attempts to get me to join in with your tomfoolery, and Hippolyta being strangely insistent on me being in some form of undress, but other than that." Shrug, and more bacon munching.
"...Oh, and you both seemed rather proud about being able to turn a traffic cone into a musical instrument."
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She is also grasping, in a hand dangling off the side of the sofa, a traffic cone. It is apparently a multiversal rule that, no matter where you are in the civilized universe, after a real bender of a night, you must come home with a traffic cone.
She doesn't even twitch. Or snore. She does, on the other hand, drool a bit. Attractive!
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Eiko racks her brain. It's painful, but she does.
And she does not remember - at all - where the traffic cone came from.
.....nor does she remember where the one on the other end of the sofa, which is apparently hers, came from either.
She stops racking. It's very painful. She just slumps back against the couch and groans softly, closing her eyes again.
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When Hips throws a bachelorette party, she does not naff about, kids.
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Eiko doesn't quite have a tattoo on her butt. On the other hand, as she realizes, one of her hands has been painted, up to the elbow, with henna, in rather an intricate style. And she doesn't remember that either.
Hips will be the go-to person for organizing such bacchanals in the future. Possibly on a professional level.
Frankly, Eiko's going to have to work hard to match this when the time comes for Hips...
Reply
"But it was necessary to the revelry. I couldn't very well throw a bachelorette party without mentioning salacious details. And I can't believe I just used the word salacious in my state. Be nice to me, Ramon, I've got a hangover. And a traffic cone."
Then she reaches a lazy hand out over the back of the sofa toward him.
"Can I have some bacon?"
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"And did any acting out occur? I am totally blithered in memory after my fourth mai-tai."
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"No. No hints. Hippolyta seems to increasingly have this problem with keeping her mouth shut about what goes on in our bedroom, so this one chance to keep it that someone who heard it all now doesn't remember it? Golden opportunity, my friend.
"And in terms of acting out, there wasn't a lot. You both thought you were going to catch a shower, then changed your minds, then thought you'd end the evening with a movie and more drinking, and then the two of your were happily passed out on the sofa. There was also repeated attempts to get me to join in with your tomfoolery, and Hippolyta being strangely insistent on me being in some form of undress, but other than that." Shrug, and more bacon munching.
"...Oh, and you both seemed rather proud about being able to turn a traffic cone into a musical instrument."
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"I saw nothing but boobs last night, I needed some manflesh to balance it out. I think that was my logic, anyway."
Also, sadface at bacon denial.
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