(no subject)
Frank shuffles into the Bar, wearing black pinstriped pyjamas and shielding his eyes with one hand. The latter helps to explain why for a good few moments he doesn't quite realise where he is. The former... explains nothing. Frank does not normally wear pyjamas, unless he is having a special moment.
Such moments only occur when he is monumentally drunk and Frank has been in a near constant state of monumental drunkenness for a number of days. In fact, he is somehow still slightly drunk whilst incredibly incredibly hungover, but what else are you going to do on New Year's Eve with old friends you've not seen in a long time. And then on New Year's Day. And the day after. And also a good part of the next day, with only minor napping dividing the time into days.
Sporadically, Frank's brain thinks that he's getting too old to celebrate so hard, but in it's current state, it can't quite hold onto this thought for any particular length of time and is hoping that when he's more sober and less hurty, he'll remember to make a note to tone it down a bit next New Year's. Well, it hopes that until it gets distracted by something too loud, too bright or ooh shiny. Mostly this... morning afternoon, it's been too loud or too bright.
The realisation that Frank is in Milliways hits him a minute or two after he's automatically shuffled towards the Bar. The alarm of the realisation that he has just gotten out of bed and is in Milliways hits about 5 seconds after that. Very shortly after that, just as the Bar kindly provides Frank with the fry-up and industrial strength mug of tea he'll be wanting, the realisation that he'd drunkenly, and luckily, put on the Christmas present from Auntie Mavis* before passing out the night/morning before washes over him.
Frank is currently hunched over what might be considered to be the greasiest, most fat-filled, fried into cholesterol hell, plate of egg, sausage, bacon, tomato, black pudding, fried bread, bubble and squeak, fried mushrooms and baked beans with a dollop of HP on the side, in the universe and occasionally taking a sip of the previously mentioned industrial strength tea. He may be up for conversation, but... the mun wouldn't want to you get your hopes up. There maybe be mumbling on Frank's part and slowtiming on the mun's involved.
*Auntie Mavis unfailingly sent new pyjamas every Christmas (well, some time between August and November with instructions not to open until Christmas - she knows that Frank won't necessarily be where she thinks he is and sends his present whenever she happens to be sure of his location) with the knowledge that like her brother used to, Frank would be getting utterly wasted at New Year's and would be in danger of waking up naked in strange places. She also knew that the habit of wearing new pyjamas at New Year had been cleverly indoctrinated into both Frank and his father and being a practical person, made sure both of them were properly supplied.
Such moments only occur when he is monumentally drunk and Frank has been in a near constant state of monumental drunkenness for a number of days. In fact, he is somehow still slightly drunk whilst incredibly incredibly hungover, but what else are you going to do on New Year's Eve with old friends you've not seen in a long time. And then on New Year's Day. And the day after. And also a good part of the next day, with only minor napping dividing the time into days.
Sporadically, Frank's brain thinks that he's getting too old to celebrate so hard, but in it's current state, it can't quite hold onto this thought for any particular length of time and is hoping that when he's more sober and less hurty, he'll remember to make a note to tone it down a bit next New Year's. Well, it hopes that until it gets distracted by something too loud, too bright or ooh shiny. Mostly this... morning afternoon, it's been too loud or too bright.
The realisation that Frank is in Milliways hits him a minute or two after he's automatically shuffled towards the Bar. The alarm of the realisation that he has just gotten out of bed and is in Milliways hits about 5 seconds after that. Very shortly after that, just as the Bar kindly provides Frank with the fry-up and industrial strength mug of tea he'll be wanting, the realisation that he'd drunkenly, and luckily, put on the Christmas present from Auntie Mavis* before passing out the night/morning before washes over him.
Frank is currently hunched over what might be considered to be the greasiest, most fat-filled, fried into cholesterol hell, plate of egg, sausage, bacon, tomato, black pudding, fried bread, bubble and squeak, fried mushrooms and baked beans with a dollop of HP on the side, in the universe and occasionally taking a sip of the previously mentioned industrial strength tea. He may be up for conversation, but... the mun wouldn't want to you get your hopes up. There maybe be mumbling on Frank's part and slowtiming on the mun's involved.
*Auntie Mavis unfailingly sent new pyjamas every Christmas (well, some time between August and November with instructions not to open until Christmas - she knows that Frank won't necessarily be where she thinks he is and sends his present whenever she happens to be sure of his location) with the knowledge that like her brother used to, Frank would be getting utterly wasted at New Year's and would be in danger of waking up naked in strange places. She also knew that the habit of wearing new pyjamas at New Year had been cleverly indoctrinated into both Frank and his father and being a practical person, made sure both of them were properly supplied.