Big oof, I'm super rusty on writing and I wrote this at 2 AM. Also, I have never written for any AHIT character before. But there needed to be more fics about these two, so enjoy this short one-shot.
"Can I get another Sinking Ship, oan the rocks?'
The seal stayed silent as it went back to work yet again refilling his drink, he didn't particularly care for the judgement in it's beady little eyes. If he weren't on vacation, Conductor would have half the mind to call the seal out on it.
Why would the cutesy little pest have the right to judge anyhow? Probably never even tried the stuff itself. What a shame that was, it was good but most important of all- it was comforting. How else could he get through his bad days? All those bad actors, dealing with those movie critics who don't know a blasted thing about making films they judge, his divorce, and that no good DJ.
Who currently was working on his new movie.
Getting a leg up on him.
The seal slid his drink over to him, it burned his throat as he quickly swallowed all of it. Or maybe it was the seething angry he felt in his gut rising? Who knew.
"M-istew maybe you should take it easy-"
"Ah, be quiet with yew." Conductor slurred, ordering yet another drink. Quietly eyeing Hat Kid, as he spotted her bouncing on some wires. What an odd lass. Nothing he didn't except from that kid by now though.
Now where was he?
Right.
Conductor would swear he doesn't worry about too much, especially does he not worry about DJ Grooves winning the awards. But with this head start… ah peck, he couldn't take a second loss in a row. It's not good for the ego.
But, what could he do anyhow? He's probably gonna write the same movie yet again, and this time he doesn't have his so-called diva to help him cheat his way to victory. He had this one in the bag, and he couldn't wait to rub it in that lousy directors face.
Conductor grimaced, tapping his claws impatiently against the bars top. Why did it feel like his drink was taking forever to get to him? He tapped his claws against the top a bit louder. His mind wandered, what kind of shameless tacky outfit would Grooves wear this year? Tap. What role would he play in it? Tap. What were the genres this time, aside from boring old sci-fi? Tap.
Would it be a musical again? Ugh he hoped not. Tap. It wasn't like the DJ was a good singer or anything, he put on too many effects- and he was generally awful. Tap.
Would it have romance? Tap. Who'd be the unfortunate soul to take part in that again? Tap. It'd be a disaster, he couldn't wait. Tap. His stomach churned.
His hand twitched.
Then it clenched, as his fist hit the bar top. "Is my drink ready or wot?!" He glared, as best as someone with no eyes could. His shout turned into a gruff, annoyed sigh- noticing the "on my bweak" sign right in front of him.
The Express Owl getting up from the bar glanced at him nervously, "Well what are yew looking at?!" The Conductor yelled, quickly the owl turned his head away and wandered off. Leaving the Conductor alone, without a drink. His frown tightened.
So what if DJ Grooves made a romance flick? Didn't bother him in the slightest. Those were getting popular though, would it hurt him to add the smallest of romance subplot? Surely it'd make that lousy DJ Grooves jealous. Of his talent of course, of his mastery on all genres.
… Maybe he should just stop drinking.
A familiar cry made his ears twitch, and he searched his foggy mind for a match. Ah right, it was the faint pitched cries of young baby birds, a sound he's grown accustomed to.
"H-hold on," he woozily hopped off his seat, "I'm coming."