( i n b o x )

[cawmemaybe]

its house number 1462 you big dumpass

Comments

[ironies]

[Bro's just, you know. Playing Fruit Ninja or something stupid on his phone, when he gets an incoming text.

Orange.

He glances toward the window like he just knows Dave's there before he even hears the knock, then rolls back to his feet. Stumbling a bit as he makes his way toward the door and opening it while nearly falling out.]

Yooooooo. The party don't even stop.

[cawmemaybe]

[ As soon as Bro starts wobbling his way to the door, Dave shuffles over to the front porch. Just in time to prepare himself to catch Bro if he needed to—but somehow the man manages to stable himself in the end.

Wow. ]

The party's well over, man. Time for beddy-bye-bye.

[ Aka time for Dave to maneuver Bro back into the living room. If the towering man would even let the boy push him around. ]

[ironies]

[Bro sort of cartoonishly spins around when Dave pushes at him, all grins as he steps back into the house.]

Haha, bullshit, kid. I'm still drizzunk. Out the hizzunk. My jizzunk. Be in my bizzunk. Bizzoyyyyy. Dude I saw someone dressed as Flavor Flav.

[He flops onto the couch.]

[cawmemaybe]

You're hallucinating. Flavor Flav's long dead, and you know it.

[ Bullshiting like a pro. The smell of alcohol is in the air, and he doesn't like it. Gross. At least with Bro on the couch, he can just as easily flop beside him.

He holds up two fingers up front. ]

How many fingers? You don't get a lifeline on this one. One guess.

[ironies]

Sixty-nine.

[He didn't even look, one hand going to his face, sort of rubbing over it like he's tired.]

[cawmemaybe]

Time to catch some z's. Gonna hand over the net in a sec. Come on.

[ Can he tug at his sleeve like he used to when he was little. Nah. He'll just sit here, waiting for Bro to make the move. ]

[ironies]

[That move doesn't take long; Bro shoves at Dave half-heartedly, slumping over a bit on the couch.]

Fuck the police.

[cawmemaybe]

The police already came and went. Nobody got fucked 'cause your dick shriveled up into a prune given the amount of booze you downed in one go.

[ And just to be an ass, he slumps against Bro afterwards. More weight piled on top of deadweight. ]

[ironies]

You for real? I'm always ready to go, yo.

[Bro pushes harder at Dave, then, in an astonishing lack of bodily control, he sort of collapses onto the carpet below like some kind of anime ninja slug.]

[cawmemaybe]

Yeah, always ready to go my ass.

[ Dave just looks at him. A second passes by. And then another, and another. Until he gets sick of it and just slumps onto Bro's prone form like a secondary ninja slug. ]

You smell like the shitty alcohol you drank. Gross.

[ironies]

[Bro lies there with his arms out like he got knocked the fuck out.]

Yooooou's a hater, yo, 'cause I was basically drinkin' the finest Courvoisier.

[He forces a burp up at Dave. More like spiked punch.]

[cawmemaybe]

[ If Dave still had his wings, he would have smacked Bro with them for that. Goddammit, that was just gross. He had to turn his head away, but he wasn't sliding off Bro's body.

His fat ass is there to stay. ]

Yeah, right. That poor excuse for a dance didn't have enough money to fund your classy choices. Bet'cha all you had was some cheap beer.

[ironies]

[Burps again.

Harder.

Louder.

Best bro.]

Either way, you weren't there, sucka.

[cawmemaybe]

[ He sure wished he drank a whole case of apple juice before coming here. At least then he'd have a chance in this burp-o-rama madness.

But alas.

Instead, he settles for rolling on Bro, with his back awkwardly resting on that man-bosom. ]

So what. Shitty beer is still shitty beer.

[ironies]

I think someone's pissed at havin' to sip OJ all damn day.

[did he mean aj

who knows




Bro lies there while Dave's on him, blinking.]

I ain't a fire, stop rollin' on me.

[cawmemaybe]

Why the hell would I cheat on my one and only. That's just wrong on so many levels. And the fact that you're insinuating I'd drink anything other than AJ is pretty damn insulting, man. You're drunk. Stop.

[ Just for that, he just rolls over Bro some more. :B ]

[ironies]

No you're fuckin' drunk, and shit, and like. Yeah. Pissy drunk. Offa Henny and skunk.

[Bro quotes rap lyrics when he's wasted and nobody's surprised.

When Dave rolls again he shoves the kid, hard. Like really hard.

But it's cool because there's a bigass smuppet pile nearby to cushion the impact :)]

[cawmemaybe]

Can't we all just get—

[ Face, meet smuppet pile. Cue: Dave jerking away from the plush. There's nowhere else to go so he decides to just sit on top of Bro. ]

Can you go to bed now??

[ironies]

You can't make me.

[That push seems to have worn Bro out, and he decides to lie there prone, not bothering to move.]

[cawmemaybe]

If I punch you in the face, I can.

[ But his hands have other ideas. He reaches out for a bunch of smuppets, and starts piling them all around Bro. ]

[ironies]

[Completely unfazed.]

Not the face. This face gets me laid.

[Bro hasn't had sex with anyone since he came here what's he talking about.]

[cawmemaybe]

Yeah, sure. The only person you've had sex with lately is your hand, I bet. Handsie Strider is gonna be damn upset to see your face all puffed up because of the couple of punches I'ma throw its way.

[ Still planting smuppets all over. Not that there's enough to completely go around Bro, but whatever. He's trying. ]

[ironies]

Shut the fuck up.

[He's too far gone to think of a cleverer comeback. Instead he just continues to lie there.]

The smuppet pile doesn't stop from getting taller.

[cawmemaybe]

[ Meanwhile, Dave continues to sit on him, building his nest of plush rumps. ]

Do you have any more?

[ironies]

Ohhhhh, D-man finally gots the hots for some ssssss-muppets. Knew you'd come around someday.

[He's just lying there uselessly.]

Upstairs or some shit.