Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26104528-20150531022109/@comment-26130256-20150606200009

" 'na tank?  Or 'na pizza devl'ry?" Ochre slurred, trying to get his tongue to function. "'Think you tol'em both 'lready.  Lot'sa gud storys, 'u got fram yar Elamunators."

One of the frustrating things about when Ochre got drunk was that, according to him, his mind continued to work like normal, but nothing else did. He once described it as "driving an automobile with a three-second delay, a flat tire, a backwards steering wheel, and pedals that were clearly designed for people with tentacles instead of feet."

"Indeed, but it was a fascinating story," Trigo remarked casually, holding a shot glass in one hand and face palming with the other. The enforcer looked practically unchanged from when he began, but any associate of the Cardamoms could tell you that any room wherein Trigo is the most sober individual is a disaster in potentia. Why, oh why, he asked himself, ''did I recommend the absinthe? And a better question, why did they accept? Dread Pirate isn't the sort of thing you just try on a whim. May as well take advantage of the situation while I can''.

"Well, gentlemen, I think we've told as many good stories as we can remember.  What do you say to something else?  Debate politics, go see a movie... Oh, I know!" Trigo pulled two dice out of his pocket. "How about a spot of gambling?"