Hey errybody. This is my little interpretation of what happened after "Over The Top." Read and review. You know I can't take credit for Regular Show and all that.
Enjoy. :)
How the hell could this happen?
It was this question that the twenty-three year old blue jay turned over and over in his mind. Stuff like this didn't happen. At least, not to him.
He stared long and hard at the bottle in his hand before raising it to his beak and letting the last of the cool liquid wash down his throat. He couldn't even taste it anymore. The sound of shattering glass startled him suddenly, and he realized the empty bottle had slipped from his hand and hit the floor. It had broken on its impact with the floor.
On impact. He had been killed on impact.
The blue jay looked down at his hands to see them shaking.
How the hell could this happen?
Without lifting his gaze at all, Mordecai groped around the sheets, searching with his fingers for another cool glass bottle, one more beer. When his fingers found nothing, he lethargically turned his head to glance at the bed. Nothing. He turned once more to look at the room. His room. His movements were labored, as though he were underwater. It took a moment for his eyes to register what he was looking at, though he had been staring at the scene for hours. It was his same old bedroom; he was sitting on his same old bed. The place was usually messy, but now it was downright trashed; no one had bothered to pick the place up after…after Skips had rifled through everything. The only difference now was the pile of empty bottles at Mordecai's feet. It bothered him that the room wasn't how Rigby had left it. It had been changed, altered. Rigby hadn't even seen it like this. The objects were his, but somehow there seemed to be no trace of the raccoon left there.
Rigby…rigby…
The blue jay stood suddenly. If he was sober enough to remember, he was too sober. He needed more alcohol. The sudden movement sent him off balance however, and he fell back onto the bed. Without a second thought the bird pulled himself back onto his feet. He kept his eyes on the floor, to keep from getting dizzy for one, but also to avoid the broken glass. He felt sick to his stomach. He hadn't drank this much in a very long time.
Mordecai had no recollection of his walk to the snack bar. He didn't feel himself trip down the stairs. He didn't hear Muscle Man call his name, didn't see the worried expression on Pops' face as he passed. Benson looked on warily from behind the counter as Mordecai approached, silently holding out one feathered hand for another bottle. Rather than close the park after the incident, Benson had simply given time off to anyone who needed it (mainly Mordecai and Skips) and taken on the extra duties himself. Of course he was upset, but there was work to be done. He gave the blue jay a disproving look, but the empty look in Mordecai's eyes was enough to make him give in. They didn't have much beer in stock as it was, and he knew better than anyone they couldn't afford to be giving them away, but he knew that look. He had seen it in his own eyes before. He stood motionless behind the counter, watching Mordecai stumble back towards the house. As he threw a couple extra hot dogs on the grill, he began to wonder if Mordecai would ever be able to work here again. On the one hand, there were so many memories, but on the other hand…the blue jay had nothing, how could he leave? Benson sighed and shook his head. He knew the decision wouldn't be up to him either way.