Shawn has been trying to play Snake for the last twenty minutes but somehow that stupid line (that is supposed to be a snake, he thinks) always hits the wall until he gets around the arrow keys, which results in a pretty embarassing pattern.
He hasn't been paying attention to his surrounding at all, because everything is spinning and he hates that. Very much so.
Which is why he is actually a little startled when Gus suddenly starts talking. He looks up, whoa, spinning, spinning, and blurry, does he need glasses? His field of vision zooms in and out and it's so weird he almost chuckles. Almost, because he sees Gus and he just lost at snake again and why is this game so stupid?
"I wanted a gun!" he prattles, pointing his finger at Gus. Or something like the rough direction.
Shawn scowls at him. He doesn't even know why because who cares about NERF right now? NERF is for sissies. At least until you've eaten two tacos and decided it's time for some real tough Rambo kickass time. "I beat you last time," he clarifies, just in case Gus has forgotten, and then scowls again, this time at the hand on his shoulder.
"I wanted to protect you!" He looks affronted. "Also, this is not funny. You wanna drink? I got pineapple capirinhas. Want?"
"It does, doesn't it! It should!" Shawn leans back heavily which results in the office chair to roll backwards. "Whoa!" He flails, hastily grabbing the edge of the desk and scowls. "Dammit!"
Since the chair is obviously against him as well (and can team up with that stupid snake for all Shawn cares) he gets up, swaying slightly. "Why're you here?"
"No," Shawn exclaims, getting agitated, gesticulating wildly, because all that little stuff comes bubbling up, things that should be fine but are getting so very bad and dramatic after you had a drink. And another. And another.
Shawn pouts, angrily, upset and just so very drunk. He leans against the desk because the room starts spinning uncontrollably. "But what if he hadn't slipped! I am so mad and you said you're gonna be fine I didn't even want you to go in the first place!"
"You know exactly why I didn't want you to go while being in that freaky Shaun of the Dead mindless zombie mode!" Shawn stomps his foot, bad idea, his balance says 'goodbye asshole' and makes a run from it.
He stumbles backwards, arms windmilling, eyes wide when everything around him just isn't stable anymore.
Shawn clings to Gus, waiting for the world to slip back into place but it doesn't. He tries to steady himself and stand again but it's useless so eventually he gives up and entrusts Gus with that instead.
"See, this is what you gotta do," he mumbles, speech slurred by the alcohol. "When you go 'way an' stop doing that I crash."
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He hasn't been paying attention to his surrounding at all, because everything is spinning and he hates that. Very much so.
Which is why he is actually a little startled when Gus suddenly starts talking. He looks up, whoa, spinning, spinning, and blurry, does he need glasses? His field of vision zooms in and out and it's so weird he almost chuckles. Almost, because he sees Gus and he just lost at snake again and why is this game so stupid?
"I wanted a gun!" he prattles, pointing his finger at Gus. Or something like the rough direction.
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"I wanted to protect you!" He looks affronted. "Also, this is not funny. You wanna drink? I got pineapple capirinhas. Want?"
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Since the chair is obviously against him as well (and can team up with that stupid snake for all Shawn cares) he gets up, swaying slightly. "Why're you here?"
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And four more.
"I told you, I wanted a gun."
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He stumbles backwards, arms windmilling, eyes wide when everything around him just isn't stable anymore.
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"See, this is what you gotta do," he mumbles, speech slurred by the alcohol. "When you go 'way an' stop doing that I crash."
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"Won't let you anyway. Make it hell on earth for you 'f you try."
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