13 Griffin Way, Saturday night

[whatever_sucks]

Squall slammed the door shut behind him angrily. Today's adventure had been great. They'd gotten rid of the bitch queen. Yay.

And two Curagas later, he was still bleeding. What kind of spell had that woman usedNot to mention the fact that his jacket was torn to shreds

Comments

[tinkerbitch]

There was absolutely no need for him to use that tone.

Tink had had a rather hard day, you know. She had stayed up all night drinking the last of his tequila, and had a terrible hangover, and if he insisted on yelling like that, she was going to rust his gunblade and turn the bathroom into a swamp.

[whatever_sucks]

"Whatever," Squall said, throwing his hands up in the air. He grabbed a bottle of bourbon instead and poured some down his throat. "So why was YOUR day so awful?"

[tinkerbitch]

Tink held out her hands. Did he see the terrible state of her nails? Did he understand that she was miles from home and all alone and she wasted years of her life and did she look fat in this dress? Be honest. And she had way too much of his tequila and by the way his tequila sucked, he needed to buy a better kind and what was wrong with him, anyway?

[whatever_sucks]

Squall blinked at her. And took another swig of bourbon. And blinked some more.

"Had you noticed," he asked, "that I'M BLEEDING?"