(Untitled)

[henry_jones_jr]

* If there are any more depressed characters slumped over at the bar tonight drinking and being generally pissy, then they'd do well to stay clear of Indy. Cos Indiana Jones looks like the most pathetic tragedy this bar has ever played host to... at least tonight. You can almost hear the angst. There's a half empty bottle of Scotch in front of him

Comments

[andmisterhyde]

Hyde avoids angst like the plague. When he's not avoiding it, he's laughing at it.

So he sits in his booth and lobs a carefully constructed notebook paper-ball at Indy's head.

[henry_jones_jr]

* It bounces off the top of his hat and rolls onto the counter innocuously. It was always going to be innocuous... it was just a ball of paper after all *

* Indy stares at it for a while, seeming to already know who was responsible. He crushes the ball tightly in his fist and flips it over his shoulder casually, back towards Hyde's booth. The aim seems true as it arcs smoothly through the air... *

[andmisterhyde]

It lands in Hyde's coffee. He stares at it.

You realize, of course, that this means war.

He rips another piece of paper out of his notebook and folds it nice an' good.

There's now a paper airplane zinging towards Indy's head.

[henry_jones_jr]

* Paper airplanes are notoriously difficult to direct with any precision. It doesn't look good for Hyde's attempt really, and the plane curves away from Indy. But at the last second the front door opens and a blast of wintery air pushes the missile back on course. It prangs into the back if Indy's neck *

* Possibly a little amused, he still doesn't turn around. Instead he takes a napkin and wraps a handful of bar snacks in it - twisting the top and successfully forming a rather well balanced nut bomb *

* He waits for a few moments, hoping that Hyde will lose interest and drop his guard. Then flings the package around his back with quite some force, again without looking at the target *

* The aim is a bit off, but perhaps it was meant to be. The bomb explodes on the back wall of Hyde's booth, spraying trail mix and cashew nuts across his table, and probably into his frizzy mop of hair *

* War it is! *

[andmisterhyde]

As most have guessed, getting anything out of hair like Hyde's is well-nigh impossible.

Hyde gestures for a rat to come over - possibly Rizzo. He whispers something to it, and the rat returns with a capped bottle of Dr. Pepper.

Our young hero surreptitiously slides out of his booth, wandering to about halfway across the room. The entire time he's shaking the bottle.

When he gets into a good range of Indy, he lets fly the cap with a flick of his bottle opener (you think Hyde wouldn't have one on him? like at all times?) and sprays Indy's back with a sticky sweet torrent of pop.

[henry_jones_jr]

* The Dr Pepper blends nicely in with the Scotch which Jenny poured down his back moments earlier. He straightens angrily this time and wheels around on his stool *

Hey! Oh Jesus Hyde... that's not funny!

* he calms and eyes the teen thoughtfully. He is still thankful for the escape the kid gave him two nights ago, so nods his head back and motions him over *

[andmisterhyde]

Hyde's laughing and standing there with his thumbs in his belt. "Yeah it is."

He steps up to the bar, boots clopping on the hard surface of the floor, and rests on the counter with his elbows. "What's up, man? You look like shit."

[henry_jones_jr]

Ah... what's new? Fuckin' place.

* he swills back a mouthful of Scotch and adpots a serious tone *

That shit we smoked the other night... you got more right? 'Cause it was pretty neat. Made me forget all the crap. Better than this does.

* he nods to the whisky, looking a little sheepish to be asking *

[andmisterhyde]

"'Course I've got more. Wouldn't be much of a dealer if I didn't have more."

Hyde reaches over for Indy's glass and helps himself to a swig. Heh.

[henry_jones_jr]

Ass!

* he smirks and gets the kid his own glass. He may be at the bottom of the barrel, but he's still vaguely civilized *

Well?

* he tilts his head and looks at Hyde expectantly, wondering if he actually has to ask out loud *

[andmisterhyde]

Hyde's got his business face on. Which apparently, in Indy's case, means he's smirking.

"It'll cost ya." He shrugs. "Sorry, man."

[henry_jones_jr]

* Indy looks a little affronted *

You're kiddin' right? I gave you $200 the other night... gratis.

[andmisterhyde]

Hyde shakes his head. "Not kidding. It'll cost you my own bottle of Scotch."

He smirks. "I think that's fair."

[henry_jones_jr]

* he stares flatly at Hyde *

You drive a hard bargain.

* he nods to the nearest wait-rat. The rodent insightfully delivers a bottle of unlabeled very generic looking whisky. Indy cocks his head, again expectant *

[andmisterhyde]

Hyde sighs. "Oh, fine. I guess you did give me two hundred bucks."

He pours himself a shot and downs it. And coughs. "Shit, that stuff burns, man."

Looking back to Indy with a bit of a grin he murmurs, "We'll have to conduct business in my room. That's where my stash is. If you're lucky, maybe I'll let you have a trial toke to see what you like. If you just want what we had last night, that's a different story."

[henry_jones_jr]

Ah... whatever. I'm no connessieur. I just figured it might help me sleep.

* he drinks himself *

I'll drop by sometime... if I can remember where your bloody room is.

* he scratches his head and pulls a face *