Excuse me, is this microphone on?
WHO: Drunk Spice, Idiot Spice and Exasperated Spice
WHEN: Sunday Night - KARAOKE NIGHT
WHERE: Club Monster
WHAT: Karaoke Night is gonna ~spice~ up your lives…or at least create damn good blackmail material.
Even from outside the throbbing bassline of the nonsensical rot meant to be music and the obnoxiously drunk chatter made Arthur wince and walk a little faster to his destination. It wasn’t his intention to be out this late or even pass by the part of town that contained Liberty’s so-called ‘nightlife’. And he wouldn’t have been out in the first place if his idiot brother in all his infinite wisdom hadn’t forgotten to stock up on tea for the week.
Perhaps Arthur could have waited until morning to go, or at least force Dewi’s arse into action to correct what was most certainly his mistake - no matter how much Dewi insisted that he was exempt from the shopping because of some claptrap of it being his ruddy birthday week. But given that he was working again - a book review column for a newspaper of all things, he mused ironically - and he had hit a stride in writing up the article, Arthur fully intended to work through the night.
And that? Required tea.
Since that Welsh twat was nowhere to be found for the night - he mumbled out something or another about a submission? - an emergency trip to the grocers seemed like the only way he would make any progress tonight. It was just really too bad that quickest route to the nearest market had to go through the particular part of town that made Arthur feel far too old for finding the scantily dressed or utterly rat-arsed club-goers somewhat off-putting.
He just needed to maintain his quick stride and soon enough he would be buying his much needed tea. Yes, and then he could finally get back to his writing and--
“ARTIE?!”
Oh. Oh god.
“Issat really you!”
Shitshitshit. Auditory hallucination, please, please let it be an auditory hallucination. There was no way… The chances of this-- Of him. Fucking hell, it would be him. Christ, his shitty luck. Must walk faster.
WHEN: Sunday Night - KARAOKE NIGHT
WHERE: Club Monster
WHAT: Karaoke Night is gonna ~spice~ up your lives…or at least create damn good blackmail material.
Even from outside the throbbing bassline of the nonsensical rot meant to be music and the obnoxiously drunk chatter made Arthur wince and walk a little faster to his destination. It wasn’t his intention to be out this late or even pass by the part of town that contained Liberty’s so-called ‘nightlife’. And he wouldn’t have been out in the first place if his idiot brother in all his infinite wisdom hadn’t forgotten to stock up on tea for the week.
Perhaps Arthur could have waited until morning to go, or at least force Dewi’s arse into action to correct what was most certainly his mistake - no matter how much Dewi insisted that he was exempt from the shopping because of some claptrap of it being his ruddy birthday week. But given that he was working again - a book review column for a newspaper of all things, he mused ironically - and he had hit a stride in writing up the article, Arthur fully intended to work through the night.
And that? Required tea.
Since that Welsh twat was nowhere to be found for the night - he mumbled out something or another about a submission? - an emergency trip to the grocers seemed like the only way he would make any progress tonight. It was just really too bad that quickest route to the nearest market had to go through the particular part of town that made Arthur feel far too old for finding the scantily dressed or utterly rat-arsed club-goers somewhat off-putting.
He just needed to maintain his quick stride and soon enough he would be buying his much needed tea. Yes, and then he could finally get back to his writing and--
“ARTIE?!”
Oh. Oh god.
“Issat really you!”
Shitshitshit. Auditory hallucination, please, please let it be an auditory hallucination. There was no way… The chances of this-- Of him. Fucking hell, it would be him. Christ, his shitty luck. Must walk faster.