"So you actually drink this stuff on purpose?" 014 asks Tink, holding up her glass. It's about two, two and a half hours tops since Tink's 'game'. I've still got the bruise. We're in the bar area. (Jumba forced us. Something called 'Social Bonding'.) Miss Psychic has just shown off her choreographic skills. Alright, she was dancing on the bar. 550 couldn't keep his eyes off her, to 014's jealousy.
"Yep. My favourite's the Bacardian Cola." Says Tink, shaking her glass gently. "Tastes great, and can get you drunk."
"Drunk…?" asks 550, looking at Tink with slightly un-focused eyes. "What's…? What's drunk?"
"About the stage you're at." She says, taking a sip of Cola.
"Is it?" he asks, squinting at his 5th glass of Vodka. "Well… I think I can not act like this…" He closes his eyes, a shudder passing down his back. He opens his eyes again. "There you are. I don't look, sound or act it, but I'm still drunk."
"How'd you find out how to do that?" 014 asks disbelievingly, stirring her Alco-pop with her straw. She hates the taste of the others.
"349 taught me after she gave me some stuff of Jumba's." He explains, watching Psyche out of the corner of his eye. He smirks to himself. "Even Miss Psychic'll be fooled by it. Whoa, I'm getting disturbing thoughts about her and me…" he groans, rubbing the side of his head. "That's the side effect. I can eventually end up doing anything that comes into my head."
"Why don't you prove it?" I smirk, lapping up my Bacardian Cola. (Tink talked me into it.) "Go for it. If you're going to ask her, I suggest you do it when she's alone."
"Alright." He says, sitting up straighter. He gets up and walks to a seat near her.
"Dead guy walking." I say, lapping up some more.
"Do you mean that literally or figuratively?" asks 014.
"Maybe both." Tink pipes up. "Psyche can get really vicious around males that say the wrong types of things."
"Ooh…" I say, biting my lip. "So introducing her to drunken Sneak isn't a good idea?"
"Nope." She says, missing the point. "He might be lucky."
"Speaking of Lucky…" 014 smirks, sipping her drink. "When're you gonna make a move on miss 'Fortuna'?"
"Hey, hey, be patient!" I say, frowning at her. "Does Fortuna go for types like me?" I ask Tink.
"Hmm." She says, stirring her drink with one finger. "I'm not really sure. She seems more interested in Sonar."
"What?!?" I yelp. "Sound-boy over there?!?"
"Yeah, but don't be too worried. He's gay."
"Oh." I say, wondering what to say now. "Right… I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing for me…"
"Now's your chance!" says 014, pointing to the corner. "Sound-boy's going, leaving Fortuna all on her lonesome!" My stomach cringes as I look round and see her. Then I spot a way out.
"What about Bar-boy?" I ask as a last resort.
"He likes Psyche."
"You've got no choice now…" says 014 smugly, looking at her fingernails.
"Great(!)" I say, whimpering slightly. Blitznack, Blitznack, Blitznack!!!!! I'm only on the admiring from afar stage! There's no way she'll go for me!
"Well, go on!" says 014, waving me away. I reluctantly get up off the floor and walk towards her. What the Blitznack am I going to say?!? Great timing for my mind to go blank(!) Ok. Be relaxed, be relaxed, be relaxed… Panic!
"(Hi…)" I whisper to myself, wondering how to greet her. "(I'm Odd. Naw, that'd scare her off... I'm 135. Naw, too formal…)" I'm only a few paces away when she turns and looks at me.
Oh Blitznack.
"…" I say, trying to say something.
"May I help you?" she asks, looking politely puzzled. C'mon 135! Say something!!!!
"…SorryI'vemadeamistakegoddagobye!!!" I say quickly, turning and nearly running the other way. Aw, what an idiot!!!!! Stupid, stupid, stupid!!!
"…What happened there?" says 014, watching me run back.
"My nerve broke!" I say, almost hyperventilating as I skid to a stop. "I- I- My mind went blank! I- I couldn't think of anything to say!! Aw, what a Kweesta!!" I cup my face in my hands and put my elbows on the table. "Now she'll think I'm a nutcase or something!"
"So it didn't go well?" asks Tink. I give her the worst glare I can muster. She doesn't seem to notice.
"Hey, calm down Odd." Says 014 kindly, patting my shoulder. "You'll have plenty of other chances. Hey, take your mind off it, 550's goin' for it." She adds, with a pinch of jealousy. I look up.
550 walks up to Psyche and sits down on a stool next to her. Whoa, she must be at least tipsy…
"Hi there…" He says, raising an eyebrow flirtingly. Whoa! I've never seen this side of him before! Go 550!
"Hey." She replies, giggling slightly.
"My name's Sneak. What's yours?" he asks, looking her up and down. Uh-oh. Those thoughts of his must be rising…
"Psyche." She says, straightening up. Hey, he might have a chance at this!
"Psyche? That's a nice name."
"It's my name." she titters, tilting her head slightly.
"Yes it is. Hey, are you drunk or something? You seem a bit tipsy. I think you may need to lie down. How about I… accompany you to your room? We don't want anyone taking advantage of you in this state, now do we?"
"(Whoa!)" I say, staggered. He's really gettin' in there!
"How about I order?" she says, looking into his eyes. "Hey, Barman!" She shouts, waving to him. "A bottle of rum here! And 9 glasses!"
"9?" asks 014, as stunned as I am. "I doubt even 550 could hide that much drunkenness!" The drinks arrive, then Psyche pours until the bottle is empty.
"Are we going to have a drinking game before we go?" He asks, half-closing his eyes at her. She smiles sweetly, bottle in hand.
"(Not quite…)" She says, raising the empty bottle slightly.
Suddenly, in one swift movement, she brings the bottle down on the edge of the bar, smashing the wide container part of it, so she's left holding the bottle-neck with razor sharp spikes on the end of it.
"(She's not-!)" 014 breathes, standing up quickly.
"She is!!" I gasp, jumping up as well.
550 blanches, terrified. A second later, she rams the sharp part of the bottle straight into his chest, slicing open deep cuts. He chokes, mouth open and screaming in pain.
The bar quickly falls silent, listening to 550's screams of anguish. He falls silent, gasping in agony, staring at her.
"You made one mis-calculation." She says, smirking at him. She leans forward and whispers in his ear;
"(I'm not drunk yet.)" She twists the bottle sharply, fresh screams erupting from him. She lets go of the bottle, frowning. 550's lifted up by some un-known force and quickly drifted away.
I- I- I turn to 014, completely horror-struck. She stares back, horrified, tears in her eyes. Without a word, we run after him, 014 vanishing from sight as she speeds away.
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