FOUR
Players, Fun and Money
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"Are you sure you can't feel a burning in your altex?" Rygel slurred, before giving a great hiccup. This was followed swiftly by a belch that would have put any and all Warner Brothers cartoon characters to shame.
John waved a hand in front of his own face quickly. "Ho! Go easy, man!" he gasped at the acrid smell. "Think I prefer the helium!"
"Well I think," D'Argo chuckled, getting up on rather unsteady feet and aiming at the barrel. "I think…" He dunked his cup in the drink and wandered back. He stumbled slightly and grabbed at John's shoulder to stop him from pitching headfirst into the floor. He handed the cup to the human and took his empty one. "I think…" He headed back and refilled John's cup.
"I think you can't think," John observed, sipping from the cup in his hand. "D'Argo," he said suddenly, grimacing at the cup. "Have you backwashed in this?"
"It's too small, he couldn't wash in there - even if Luxans did wash," Rygel observed with a very generous burp.
"Oh, God, Sparky - do that over there!" John protested, pointing to the far side of his room.
D'Argo sat back down at the workbench, looking at John two feet to his left. "You know," he grinned, putting his hand out and clapping it rather heavily on the man's shoulder, "you have done a great thing here today."
"Really?" John hiccupped. "Thought I made a tasteless, ineffective drink that doesn't even get you a little bit tipsy."
"But it has made me feel less like killing the Hynerian," D'Argo chuckled.
"Liquor. The great peace maker," John agreed, nodding with a small smile.
"So now the grog's not working, can we get to the real reason for this get-together?" Rygel asked.
"What?" John wondered.
"Well this is three males on an evening involving drink. I don't know how they do it on Earth, but for Hynerians, this is a time to put differences aside and join together to pursue one of life's great achievements as a close-knit team."
"Oh yeah? And what's that? Chasing Hynerian skirt?" John hazarded. He took a long pull at his cup before belching nearly as loudly as Rygel had done. The other two looked at him, surprised. "That - ah - wasn't me," he apologised quietly.
"Gambling!" Rygel crowed. "So come on, teach us an Earth game that involves winning someone else's valuables!"
John thought for a long second. "I don't know any--"
"John," D'Argo asserted, shifting his stool up a little closer and dropping his hand on the human's shoulder furthest from him, "don't worry." He shook the human slightly. "Show us a game. If the little hezmot cheats, I'll cleave him and we can have half a Hynerian each to hang on our walls."
"That's… comforting," John managed.
"So come on then, get us started," Rygel ordered. "Either you come up with a game or I will… after I've had another cup of this smooth, smooth, wonderful sweetness!"
.
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"So the Kravvidian says - 'what about my refund?'" D'Argo howled with laughter, slapping the workbench in a way that made it greatly afear't and tremble accordingly.
"Whoa, slow down there," John laughed, letting go of his cup and his cards to try and steady the table.
"I don't think thash funny," Rygel hiccupped, leaning to one side quite heavily in his chair.
"You don't think Crap-viddians is a funny name?" John gasped, wiping water from his eyes and managing to stay upright on his stool.
"No. Refunds are nev'r funny - unless I'm getting them," Rygel burped. "But this is."
He leaned forward and opened his hand, dropping circular playing cards to the bench. They fluttered down, landing on top of the human and Luxan's hands.
"No!" D'Argo protested, staring. "You little--"
"And you say you're not affected by th' drink," Rygel said smugly. "I've been saving those, and neither 'uv you noticed I had less cards to begin with!" He fell back in his chair, roaring with laughter, his hands in the air.
D'Argo began to hiss but John dropped his cards and put a hand out on his arm quickly. "D'Argo - leave it," he ordered.
The Luxan looked at him, then at his cup. "You're right. We're lucky he's winning," he asserted slowly, concentrating on his words.
"Yeah. God knows I do not want him takin' off any clothes," John nodded.
"So come on then, pay up!" Rygel giggled.
The human and Luxan shrugged at each other and then stood rather unsteadily. John looked down, remembering he was down to his large black boots, bright white underwear and the black t-shirt he had purloined from the large transport hangar, what felt like years ago. He sighed and put his hands to the shirt, lifting it off over his head.
"Thank you," Rygel grinned, waving to the workbench between them. "Put it wi' my other spoils."
John scowled at him as best he could with an inebriated, half anesthetised face, and dumped the t-shirt on top of the trousers and Peacekeeper waistcoat he had already lost to Rygel's hoard. He sat back down with a thump.
D'Argo got up, grabbing the workbench to aid his sliding down the edge toward the barrel containing the drink. His large red jacket had been shucked a long time ago, his battle shorts and huge door-kicking boots the only thing he wore. He put the cup on the workbench and bent over, pulling off said boots.
"And those," Rygel ordered. "Over 'ere."
D'Argo huffed but then threw the boots directly at the Hynerian. Rygel lowered the chair quickly to avoid getting the heavy warrior footwear in the head. He bobbed up again.
"Thank you," he said graciously.
D'Argo turned back to the cup, picked it up, and dipped it in the barrel. "This is still half full," he noticed. "We need to drink more!"
"I need to shtop playin'," John acceded, but his words were almost rolled into one giant garble of drunken happiness. "All I got left is ma shorts an' ma boots. Either I'm a bad player, or Fluffy's changing th' rules every time he deals."
"As you said," D'Argo managed, sliding the full cup up the workbench and holding his hand out. John put his empty cup on the table and slid it town to him. D'Argo picked it up and refilled it. "We are lucky… he does not have to disrobe. An unclad Hynerian is not a pretty sight."
"Except to another unclad Hynerian," Rygel giggled. "I quite like unclad Hynerians."
"Hey, I got one," John chuckled, sipping at the cup. "There'sh a human, a wolf an' a bear in the woods. It starts rainin' and what-have-you, so they--" He paused to hiccup. "--They end up takin' shelter in this cave. So they start talkin' 'bout--" He pushed a closed fist into his chest, belching loudly. Rygel applauded with a laugh and the human inclined his head. "--So anyway, they start talkin' 'bout what they like. The wolf says 'Wolf ladies are the best', and the human says 'No, human ladies are superior' and the bear says 'Nah, they ain't got nothing on bare ladies'--"
D'Argo's mouth opened and a monstrous noise erupted from him.
Human and Hynerian simply stared at him, waiting for the foghorn to cease. Then they looked at each other, lost.
"What th' hell was that?" John burbled, clutching at the workbench to stop him from finding the floor.
"A build up of gases," D'Argo admitted. "My apologies."
"Right," John acceded, but it came out as pure burp.
Rygel giggled with unadulterated glee, clapping again. "You're gettin' better at this!" he observed. "See if you can burp your own name!"
"Yeah, cos that's attractive," John laughed sarcastically.
He slipped on the stool, almost sliding off. D'Argo's hand shot out, missed, regrouped, and then latched onto his bare arm.
"Steady," he warned.
John waved a hand at him in gratitude and D'Argo let go.
"You know," Rygel said loftily, "I don't remember the last time I had such a pleasant time in male company. That moon's shine must be doin' its job after all. There's no way I could be friends wi' you two if I wasn't a little frelled on it."
"Thanks, Ryge," John smiled. "Same to you."
"Talking of things that are attractive," D'Argo said quietly, pushing a hand into John's shoulder.
John leaned with the push, then slid back upright with the grace of a sinking ship. "What?"
"You know… attractive things," D'Argo intoned, tilting his head and rolling his eyes up at him.
"D'Argo, what are you talking about?"
"Currency, of course!" Rygel interrupted. "And seein' as I have all of yours, and you are nearly out of clothes, I think it's time we moved on to gamblin' with something bigger."
"Like what?" John asked, pushing himself to sit up.
"Chiana," D'Argo oiled.
"D, you at least have to own someone 'fore you can put 'em up as collateral. And you can't own someone, especially someone like--"
"No, I meant… attractive things," D'Argo said quietly.
"Oh." John's voice was small. "Well… yeah, ok, she's nice to look at, and--"
"But John likes Aeryn, don't you, John?" Rygel said maliciously, smiling in such a sweet way the human would have got up and slapped it off his face - had he been able to stand.
"And what do you like? Valuables?" John snapped back. "Hope you get 'em. But they will never be your friend."
"Neither will Nebari tralks or Peacekeeper bitches," Rygel grumbled.
"You know what, Ryge? You just lost your refill rights!" John cried angrily.
"Oooh - you hear that, Luxan? Call his Peacekeeper floozy a bitch and suddenly he's growin' a backbone!"
John pushed himself up from the bench, grabbing at the thronesled and hauling the little deposed ruler toward him.
"You're wrong on four counts, Buckwheat," John snarled into his face. "She ain't a Peacekeeper, she ain't a bitch an' she ain't mine. And most importantly--" He paused to pull their faces closer together. "You know I don't need to defend Aeryn, she'd kick your scaly little ass all over this ship just for lookin' at her wrong. It's not me you should be worried about how you speak to - it's her!"
He pushed vehemently and the thronesled wobbled backwards.
"I might just ask that Nebari tralk how much dren you've stolen from everyone's rooms recently," D'Argo chimed in hotly, and Rygel looked at him.
"Fellas," he said soothingly, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'm sure this is just the drink talkin', yes?" he feathered. "Why can't we all just… get along?"
John crossed his arms in front of him on the workbench before his head slipped forward and banged into it with a sickening thud. D'Argo put a hand on his shoulder, then looked at Rygel.
"Fine. We won't kill you yet. Let's play another round."
"What for?" John managed, his voice muffled by the table top. "I ain't got any more money, clothes or dignity."
"Then let's play for what you do have," Rygel grinned, rubbing his hands.
"His room," D'Argo nodded. "It is bigger than mine."
"Done," Rygel chuckled, an evil little sound that reverberated round the room. He looked around at it. "You've done a lot to this place in a year," he observed. "I like it much more, these days."
"Just deal," John sighed. He lifted his head. "But if I'm puttin' up my room, what are you two puttin' up?"
"This," Rygel said, pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket.
"What's that?" the human and Luxan said together.
"The recipe of this marvellous dren you've made," he chuckled. "And unless you win it back, I'm goin' to sell it across five systems."
"Why you--" John began, pushing himself up again.
"John!" D'Argo, managed, grabbing the human and hauling him back to his stool. "Now is not the time."
"No. You're right," John hiccupped, waving hands in acquiescence. "I'll wait till I've got ma pants back."
"And what are you puttin' up, Luxan?" Rygel added.
"Currency," he nodded. He stood, pulling a small bag from his shorts and setting it on the table.
"I don't wanna know where you hid that," John muttered, his drunken stupor telling him that ignorance was indeed bliss.
"How much is in there?" Rygel demanded, suspicious.
"Enough," D'Argo nodded. He looked at John, then at Rygel. "Now deal."
.
The title is a play on Warren Zevon's 'Lawyers, Guns and Money'. As if you didn't already know. :)
'I was gambling in Havana. I took a little risk. Send lawyers, guns, and money, Dad! Get me out of this! I'm an innocent bystander! Somehow I got stuck - between a rock and a hard place. And I'm down on my luck.'
