[There's the quiet scrape of something familiar, a soft sound, dull. Consistent if not exactly repetitive. Anyone familiar with bars may recognize it as glass on wood. Anyone very familiar might even pick up on the stick that says the drinker's been in his seat for some time.]
No box to blame this one on, I guess.
Least they're together.
[And
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Sully, I'm so sorry. [Slight pause.] How many drinks have you had?
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[She manages a small smile.] I hear drinking on an empty stomach is a very bad idea.
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It's something he'd never admit to anyone, so he can't fall apart now.] I'm not sure you know me very well, sweetheart. Bad Idea is my middle name. Just ask--
Shit. [He looks at the camera now.] Your place or mine? This bar stinks.
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John should get him a God damn major award!]
So the journalist and Nate Drake up and poofed away?
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He sits back and looks at his beer instead of the idiot on the screen.] Something like that.
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[Like the panda's ever been drunk boy are you kidding.]
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[This is a bad idea. A really terrible idea.] So maybe you should come down and try it. I bet they've got... sake.
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Uh, well...I'm kind of roughed up really badly right now-nothing, nothing too bad, I mean, just...you know, stuff. That like, I...I just don't want to, uh, you know...be seen, and I'm really bad at stealth mode I never figured it out and I couldn't like, uh...you know, show up in a disguise because it's like, SURPRISE! A panda-shaped thing here, there's so many pandas here, we can't know who it is! ...so, I mean.
I can't.
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[Shut up, really. Sully looks at the kid.] Can you move?
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You all right, Sully?
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