It's strange. There's horses and ponies back where Bill comes from, but they walk on two legs, not four.
This isn't his first run-in with these funny four-legged space animals. After all, the last planet had dogs like him that ran around on all fours and didn't wear clothes and communicated in barking noises. But these ponies wear some clothing, even if they prefer to go pantless. And they speak normally. And they don't chase their own tails or poop on lawns or lick themselves in inappropriate areas in public.
Other than walking around on four legs, they're just like the horses from home. Which is strange. But hey, he can deal with it. Especially if they throw parties like these.
"Hey, Pinkie Babe," he calls out, holding up his drink (which he knows very well is mostly vodka). "Where are the munchies?"
"You don't waste any time hitting on people, do you?" Fox said, rolling his eyes as he strolled up next to his buddybro. He was carting around a plate of jello because he already found the snack table, because he is a champion of snacks.
"Just being neighborly," he says, turning with a smile and a wag of his tail. "So Fox, is there anything to eat besides jello? I could go for some real food."
This isn't his first run-in with these funny four-legged space animals. After all, the last planet had dogs like him that ran around on all fours and didn't wear clothes and communicated in barking noises. But these ponies wear some clothing, even if they prefer to go pantless. And they speak normally. And they don't chase their own tails or poop on lawns or lick themselves in inappropriate areas in public.
Other than walking around on four legs, they're just like the horses from home. Which is strange. But hey, he can deal with it. Especially if they throw parties like these.
"Hey, Pinkie Babe," he calls out, holding up his drink (which he knows very well is mostly vodka). "Where are the munchies?"
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Fox kind of cocked his head towards the snack table, cramming another spoonful of jello into his mouth
"Table's back that way. There's chips and other stuff too."
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"Didn't know you were a fan of that stuff." Or anything with alcohol in it, really.
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And Fox spooned another bite into his mouth, because jello is delicious.
"I've had like. Three plates of this stuff already. S'pretty good. Think I'm gettin' tired, though."
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He clapped a paw on Fox's shoulder. "Don't go crashing on us yet, Fox. The party just started!"
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"Uh. Red."
No, he wasn't aware that the fucking jello was spiked with pure vodka at all. IT STILL TASTES LIKE JELLO.
"I ain't crashin', waddyou talkin' about?"
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Did Fox not realize he was drunk? Telling him would spoil the fun, so Bill would just have to keep an eye on him.
"You look beat, Fox. Are you getting too old for parties already?"
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Fox jabbed his spoon at Bill, his tail flicking about clumsily as he tried to formulate sentences. Or something.
"No man. No. I mean, I don't like do parties. But I ain't old yet. I could have like thirty parties."
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He laughs and claps an arm around Fox's shoulder.
"Why aren't you into parties, anyway? No one around here's gonna bite."
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