Because it would happen, right?
Maybe.
Bite Me
Ellis had always been fairly fond of Nick - he liked his once cleaned-pressed white suit and sky-blue dress shirt. He had even liked Nick's designer shoes, even though he thought that the style was more fit for a man over seventy. But that was just Ellis.
Over time, though, Nick had started to actually grate on Ellis' nerves - and that took a lot.
"Did you see the sign up front? Cousins Only day today,"
"You can almost call this the CE-ment river, Ellis!"
Ellis, in plain, was annoyed with the northerner.
Who did Nick think he was? For all Ellis knew, Nick was speaking from experience.
"HELICOPTER. It is a HELICOPTER. You call that thing a 'whirly-bird' one more time, I'll beat you SO bad, your sister's gonna wish she never gave birth to you."
Ellis' sister?
Rest assured, Ellis didn't even have a damn sister.
All Nick did was complain and complain. Oh, and - complain a little bit more. And he had the balls to tell Ellis that he talked a lot.
"Overalls -"
"Shut up, Nick!" Ellis finally growled, looking up from the sewer he was about to jumped into. "God Dayum!"
Nick paused, lowering his shotgun. He had the balls to look offended from being cut off. Ellis continued, his ears turning read from both embarrassment and annoyance.
"I mean, seriously, what in the Hell did you do when you were my age, Folsom Prison Blues? Gamble with Pokemon cards and candy cigarettes? Yew need ta shut yer mouth!" the young southerner threw his half-empty bottle of pills at Nick's head. "Fuckin' all talk an' no action cranky ol' fart," Ellis mumbled, making his way into the dark, damp sewer.
Nick simply stood there, mouth agape, expression incredulous.
Rochelle held in a giggle while Coach roughly patted Nick's shoulder as a half-assed attempt to make the gambler feel better.
Ellis continued on, grumbling and shooting down whatever infected individual he could find in an attempt to calm his tempter.