"What do you think it is?"

"Well, does it look like I know?"

"You don't. Do you?"

"..."

"Carl?"

"No,"

"Then let's open it and find out."

With those words, I began to tug the large brown crate out from underneath Daryl's bed. Technically, Carl and I weren't even supposed to be in Daryl's cell. But Carol had sent us to check on him since he'd skipped breakfast this morning but he wasn't here either. Personally, I thought she had a crush on him. But Carl and I had been banned from making kissing noises at the two of them whenever they were seen together. I rolled my eyes at the thought. Stupid Lori and her rules.

Finally, the old crate came loose and Carl helped me slide it out. It wasn't locked, thank goodness. Together we cracked the lid open and pushed it off as we peered inside, kneeling over it. But instead of candy or even pudding- as Carl had been hoping - the crate was filled with bottles of light, brown liquid. Carl and I shared a confused look. He picked one up and turned it over in his hands.

"What is this supposed to be?" he asked, not hiding his disappointment.

I shrugged, pushing my hair out of my eyes as I snatched it from him and rolled it over in my own hands.

"Dunno. It has no label," I replied, biting my lip as I set it back in the crate with the others.

We were silent a moment, just gazing down at the bottles when Carl suddenly piped up.

"So you wanna drink one?" he asked me.

Mulling it over, I shrugged. What harm could it do?

"Why not?" I said in reply.

Quickly, Carl and I grabbed a bottle each and popped the lids off easily.

"On the count of three," Carl started our countdown, "1,"

"-2-" I continued, eyeing the liquid in the bottle warily.

"-3!" he finished.

In the blink of an eye, the bottles were up to our lips and we'd taken a huge sip each. The coughing and spluttering happened almost immediately after. The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, making me nearly gag. After my own coughing had subsided though, I turned to Carl with wide eyes.

"What is that stuff?!" I shrieked, slapping him on the arm as if it was his fault.

"Ow! I don't know, okay?" he pouted, rubbing his now sore arm, "I guess Daryl found it on a supply run,"

"..."

"..."

"Hey, Carl?"

"Yeah?"

"You want another sip-" I started to ask.

"-yes, please." he cut me off and just like that, we were back to downing the liquid again.

As it turns out, the more we drank, the better it tasted. Soon, I had begun to feel a bit loopy, grinning like a mad woman as I sipped the liquid out of the bottle in intervals. Carl was pretty much the same except he was on his third bottle now.

"Hey, Carl," I said, trying to get his attention.

Harrumphing when he didn't answer, I inched closer to him.

"Carrrl..." I called again, grinning, "Carrrol...Corrral..."

I burst into giggles then, brief spots dancing before my eyes. Carl joined in the mocking then, mustering a serious expression as he looked over at me. His Sheriff's hat just added to the effect.

"I don't have time for this!" he said in a thick, over-exaggerated Southern accent.

"Why not, Rick?" I egged him on, biting my lip before taking another swig of my drink.

"Because! I'm doing stuff, Lori...thangs!" he responded.

But he couldn't hold onto his seriousness and his expression crumpled as the two of us fell into another round of giggles. My head rested on his shoulder as we laughed.

"No, no, we have to comp...compopo...com..." Carl started, stumbling over his words whilst his eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he tried to find the right word.

"Compose?" I suggested, slurring slightly.

He nodded, taking another chug of his bottle before pointing it at me, "Exactly,"

"We need to be mature and serious..." he trailed off.

I nodded, trying to keep a straight face. Suddenly, I heard a loud 'hic' come from Carl seated beside me. We shared just one glance but that was all it took. Peals of laughter could be heard all throughout the prison, the sound bouncing off the walls as we rolled around on the floor in a fit of the giggles. I guess it came as no surprise when just a short time later, several pairs of footsteps came rushing into the doorway of the tiny cell.

"My moonshine!" an outraged Southern accent yelled out.

Glancing up, our eyes met those of a very angry Daryl, Rick, and Lori.

'Hic' was all I could manage to get out as they glared down at the two of us, empty bottles strewn all over the cement floor of the cell.

Rick placed his hands on his hips as he drawled, "What do you two think you're doing?"

"Stuff-" I responded only to be cut off by Carl who lay passed out behind me on the floor, spread eagle with his Sheriff's hat covering his eyes.

"-and thangs!" he piped up, holding up an index finger before letting his hand fall to the floor once more.

But apparently that wasn't the right answer because Rick only glowered more. Without warning, Carl and I were being pushed out of the cell.

"The both of you are in big trouble, do you understand me?!" Lori shrieked, flying off the handle, "Go wash up and then the three of us are having a chat about going through other people's belongings,"

I stuck my tongue out at her before Carl and I walked off. He draped an arm lazily across my shoulders as we began to stumble down the hallway.

"And Carl, don't-" Rick began to say when Carl cut him off.

"You better wise up and call me..." he tossed over his shoulder coolly, his Sheriff's hat shading his eyes as he whispered, "Carl Poppa,"

Rick clenched his jaw and I shot Carl a warning look as we both suddenly sobered up.

"Carl?"

"Yeah?"

"Run!"

Note: This was actually inspired by a scene from Anne With an E - if you've seen it, you know which one I'm talking about lol ;)