Disclaimer: I own little used within.

Remember my supermarket chapter in the last fic? Semi-filler? This is sort of like that. It could sort of pass off as a filler chapter, but you may miss something if you skip it completely. This one is a drunken scene in a bar.

By the way, I'm not all that familiar with how drunken people act. I'm just basing these on stereotypes. So sorry if it didn't come out right.

The Geht Reel Drunc. Not exactly a haven for the vigilantes. But cupcakes didn't help. A good fight with some strangers didn't help. Even stopping along the way to the bar and taking out all their anger-grief (they thought it was anger. But it was actually grief! What a twist!) on some poor, innocent trees for a couple hours (then not being able to move for at least another fifteen minutes or so due to loss of energy) didn't help. So what was their only option left?

…Talk it out? Don't be an idiot. Drink it away, of course!

"Uh… this one's the first one for twenty more miles…" Patrick restudied his map.

"It'll do," Pete looked it over.

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One half-hour and twenty beers later, Pete, Patrick, Joe, and Andrew were drunk. Hammered, inebriated, smashed, and plastered. Maybe even tipsy.

"Uuuuuuugh, this beer rocks!" Andrew smiled. "This is better n' anythin' back at home!"

"It sucks!" Pete threw an empty bottle at the door and it smashed.

"This bar is so derepsing…" Patrick was slouched over his beer.

"I think you mean derivin'!" Joe commented to Patrick and nudged him a bit. "GOD, you are shooo drunk!" He held out his hands. "Gimme the… gimme the keys. I'm drivin'!"

"NOW AREN'T WE HAVING FUN?!" Sorel shouted. If only he wasn't so drunk he would realize his targets sitting right under his noses. He swung his beer and almost hit his also inebriated lieutenants.

"Whoa, now sir!" Gerard held his palms straight out and up in front of him, trying to signal to Sorel to be steady, when he himself was weaving. "Don't want you to get toooo tipsy, now huh?!"

Mikey waved his hands about. "I LOOOOVE THIS BAR! Da da da da daaa…" He sang some sort of off-key version of the song.

Jared sat way off to the side, in a reclusive corner with his three friends. "Drink now, me hearties! We strike at dawn! And tonight, WE DINE IN HELL!"

One of his members pointed to Jared and giggled. "'300'… L.O.L., man!"

Joe stumbled over to them and looked at Jared. "You're a pretty girl. Are you from Tennessee?"

Jared furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, then shook his head.

"'Cause you're the only ten I see!"

"Ewwwwwwwwww, drunkard!" Jared (ironically quite drunk himself) pushed Joe off.

"YOU…" Meanwhile, Sorel turned around to face Pete. "Do I… know you from somewhere?"

Pete flipped his hair out of his face. "You're ugly. And drunk. Git outta my fashe!"

Sorel's response was to laugh and put a hand on Pete's bony shoulder (making Pete scowl, growl, and try to flinch away). "You're funny. You're great. That is good. YA KNOW, I could use YOU for one of my next lieutenants!"

"But we're your lieutenants!" Gerard shouted, louder than he needed to. Mikey was nowhere to be found.

"Right, right… you are…" Sorel stumbled away from Pete and to Gerard, putting a hand on his shoulder instead. "You, you're great. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Not enough, sir! NOT ENOUGH!" Gerard shouted, again, louder than he needed to be, considering that Sorel was standing right next to him.

Andrew was watching them the entire time in silence. But somewhere, out of nowhere, he cracked up finding something (maybe Gerard's loss of volume control?) very funny.

Joe simply stared at Andrew. He looked like he was about to cry. "What's so funny… I wanna get it, too…" His face darkened suddenly and he shouted at the top of his lungs and lunged forward to grab Andrew's T-shirt and shake him. "TELL ME WHAT'S SO FUNNY!" But this just made Andrew giggle harder.

Patrick observed them. "They're havin' more fun 'an me… everyone has more fun… Patrick sad!" Patrick then began to slouch so much that he almost fell out of his chair if Sorel didn't reach down and pull him back up.

"Heyheyheyhey, where're ya goin'?!" Sorel said to him. "You're great, just great… you don't need to go an' fall an' stuff!" Sorel handed Patrick his beer before going elsewhere.

Joe looked at Sorel. "Hey, did your father have sex with a carrot? 'Cause you've got nice eyes!"

"You're great!" Sorel tapped Joe on the shoulder a few times with his empty beer bottle and then turned to the bartender to order another beer (the poor young Indian boy, probably too young to be tending a bar legally, was so confused by the scene that he looked a little tipsy himself). "GIMME ANOTHER BEER, PUNK!"

"Agh!" the bartending boy just quickly put another beer on the counter and recoiled in fear, probably just because Sorel was a vampire.

"Thanks…" Sorel picked it up. "You are a GREAT bartender."

A dark-haired girl walked into the bar. She was casually wiping Travis's blood off her black-and-red dress and ordered a glass of red wine.

"Heyyy," Joe walked over to her in anything but a straight line. "Are you from heaven?... 'Cause I got an erection!"

The girl didn't look at him, not even a glance. She knew better after a couple of hundred years to not make eye contact with the drunkards. She instead turned to Gerard. "Excuse me, sir? Have you seen these men?" She held up a group picture of Joe, Pete, Patrick, and Andrew.

Gerard studied it for a minute, straining. "Nnnnnnnnnnope. Not even familiar. Oh, wait, maybe… naw, I take it back. Don't know him." He took a look at Joe over the woman's shoulder. "Who are they?"

She shrugged and paid the bartender. The mysterious girl knew better than to hang around drunkards who had no idea which ways were up and left.

Sorel stood up on the counter. "Hey, hey everybody! You're a great audience! I have, I have something to show you!" He took out his sword and held it above his sword. "You, y-y, you're gonna miss it! You're gonna miss it!" He hurled his sword behind him, accidentally getting the poor bartending boy in the chest and pinning him against the wall. "Awwwwww, you- you blinked. You missed it."

Andrew giggled. Joe joined him in giggling. Pete didn't giggle. Neither did Patrick.

The next second, in walked the four VFBI members. "Well, would you look at that…" Agent S.J. observed. "No bartender… except for that corpse up against the Budweiser. What are we going to do about this situation?"

Agent J.K. was elated. "Free happy hour!"

"No!" Agent A.L. grabbed him before he went running. "We have to do the bartending ourselves. As authority figures." She led the way to behind the counter. Three of the agents started to get beers out for the others, but Agent J.K. just flopped down on the counter and used the fountain beer nozzle to squirt beer directly into his mouth.

Sorel pointed at Agent J.K. "Ohhhmygod! You can party, boy! You are SO GREAT!" He then turned to Agent S.J. "And you… you're so BIG… and SCAry… that's so greeeeaaaaat…"

Patrick groaned in sadness to himself and poured his beer in front of him, watching it as it spilled all over the counter.

"You should… you should… if you aren't gonna drink that beer," Gerard struggled out, "You should save it for the jun… jun… the rainforest."

"I-I-I HATE to break up parties, 'shpecially GREEEAAAT ones like this…" Sorel started. "But, I think it'sh time my great ol' lieutenants an' hired help left… we gotta go torture people."

"Nooo, don't go!" Joe whined. "Hey, ya know what would be great?!"

"WHAT WOULD BE GREAT?!" Sorel grabbed Joe by the shoulders and shook him a bit.

Joe grabbed Sorel's shoulders back. "We should aaaaallllllllll stay together tonight, and have breakfesht here, raht here in thish bar, tomorrow mornin', 'cause some of us may be a bitty… hanged over, you know?" Joe tossed his sixth beer aside on the counter. "I gotta 'mit, I had a couple myshelf."

Sorel stumbled away. "THAT… is SUCH a GREAT idea!" He stumbled over to Pete and put his arm around Pete's shoulders, almost knocking them both down (considering neither of them were steady). "'Cause I am just not ready to leave you all, you're such my new great friends!" Pete looked ready to attack Sorel.

"We should totally do that!" Andrew smiled.

"Nooo," Patrick said. "I bet we won't like each other in the morning… we never do…" he paused and crossed his arms. His face was flushed. "Or maybe we'll die in our sleep."

"Awww! C'mon Patrick, I wanna shtayyy!" Andrew tugged on Patrick's sleeve. "Hey, Patrick?... Hey, Patrick? Pat? Patrick? Yo, Patrick? Patrick? Pat? Rickshter? Patrick?"

"Uhhhhhhhhn, what?" Patrick curled up into the fetal position.

"I wanna shtayyy overnight!" Andrew whined. "Pleeeeeaaasshhe?"

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Pete wiggled Andrew. "JEEEEEEEZ, Andy… we gotta go!"

"Mm'kay…" Andrew began towards the entrance of the bar as Patrick slowly got up. "We'll just sleep in tha RV…"

"I'll sleep on the roof!" Pete's scowl ran away for a second.

Patrick looked over at Pete. "Aren't ya gonna… in the morning… get sunburned?"

"Or what if you roll off?!" Joe looked worried.

"Raht… sun burns!" Pete scowled as he trudged out of Geht Reel Drunc as the other vigilantes followed.

"C'mon Patrick, gimme the keysh!" Joe nudged Patrick. "You are in NO SHAPE to drive!"

Just as they left, Sorel's group started to leave.

"You're drunk!" Jared laughed and pointed to the bounty hunter standing next to him.

"No, you're drunk!" The other said.

"You're ALL drunk!" One with a droopy black hairdo said.

"No, no, no!" One of them said. "Jared, I can rightfully say since you are my brother and I know you… you are drunk!"

Jared shook his head. "Wanna know something funny? Your name is Shannon. That's a GIRL'S name! And you're supposed to be my brother!" He made a straight face out of nowhere. "I… will prove this to you! You are so drunk… that if I stab you… beer will come out!" Jared made a spastic movement and whipped out his katana, stabbing his brother in the arm. Blood seeped out. "Ohhh. Not beer. Maybe I am drunk."

His brother managed a wheezing laugh. "It doesn't… it doesn't hurt at all! Look! Look at this! I'm bleeding a lot, and I think ya might've sliced into the bone, omigod, how funny is that?"

The bounty hunters, Sorel, Gerard, and a half-conscious Mikey (being dragged out, courtesy of Gerard) left the bar as well.

Agent J.K. watched them leave. He looked up at his other agents. "So, free happy hour now?"

A pause. Then, "Yes. Free happy hour now." Agent S.J. nodded as A.L. and J.K. cheered and filled their glasses.