"People, people, everybody people, everybody making a soooouund."
Russel tried to tell himself they weren't drunk.
"People, people, everybody people."
But there was just a lot of giggling. And stumbling. And, uh, empty beer cans everywhere.
"Ohhhhhohohohhhh."
Noodle tried to do a pirouette off the couch, failed, and tumbled into a roll that she bounced neatly out of, laughing so hard it was a wonder she had any balance left. 2D was a little more composed, swaggering around the room with his arms going in every which direction, occasionally chuffing with amusement. His cheeks were flushed. 2D was just a little over buzzed; Noodle was hammered.
"People, people," he crowed happily. "Everybody people."
"Everybody standing their ground!" Noodle chirped, bouncing on the spot. With a little too much swaying. Okay, she was ho dancing.
Russel couldn't decide if he was Epically Pissed or not. On the one hand, Noodle was fifteen, dammit, and 2D knew goddamn better than to give her alcohol. On the other, this was the most relaxed he had seen any of them since their shaky reformation, and just seeing Noodle and 2D laughing and dancing around the living room like penguins on crack was enough to fill him with deep-rooted nostalgia. Maybe…he'd let it slide. They hadn't noticed him watching from the doorway yet anyway.
Noodle was now pulling some complicated little shimmy-thing that he'd seen her do perfectly a thousand times but that kept tripping her up now, sending her into repeated hysterics. "People, people, everybody people, everybody making a – "
The door on the other side of the room burst open in a flurry of dust and angry angry testosterone. "OI! WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THAT RACKET? STOP THAT, STOP!"
Noodle squealed and tripped and laughed some more as 2D dashed past her. "Run, Noodle!"
They fled at high-speed, streaking past Russel without any kind of greeting. He could hear them cracking up all the way down the hall.
Murdoc ground his teeth furiously, lips peeled back and looking like he was considering going after them. Russel snorted a little and his eyes snapped over to him.
"Keep 'em quiet," he snarled. "I've got a hangover the size of your mum's esophagus."
He left and slammed the door shut behind him. Russel stayed there for a minute, looking at the knocked-over coffee table and the trash everywhere, and he pushed himself off the door frame, just barely smiling.
They were back on their way to recovery.
...when I'm in a silly mood, I write silly things.
Anyone have any request ideas? As long as it's halfway plausible I'll totally do it.