get on your feet!: tommy—timberlake: literallythebestcitycouncil: Chris had begun to feel…
Chris had begun to feel just a tad woozy, nothing he couldn’t handle…yet.
“I just texted Ben!” Leslie shouted.
“Oh! Well thats lovely! I’d be delighted if he would join us!” Chris said. He was actually pretty shocked at how well he…
Chris stumbled back over to the table where Leslie and Tom were still sitting. He saw an empty shot glass in front of Leslie.
“I see you gave in!” He said pointing at her empty glass.
“And so did I! Look what I got!” He slurred showing them a small piece of paper with a phone number written on it. Chris had somehow managed to get Mandy’s number although he was quickly becoming increasingly buzzed.
“Have you guys ever noticed that the lines on your hands look like little rivers?” He noted holding his hands in front of his face, blinking to try and get them in focus.
“Whose up for another round of Snake Juice! Tom?”
Leslie grinned in amusement as Chris returned in considerably better spirits. “Heeey, you got a phone number! See? That Traeger charm works!” She slapped her open palm against his outstretched one in a high-five.
She declined the offer for another shot, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll pass. I’ll just have another beer. Much safer.”
Leslie checked her phone again, sending another text to Ben: “Where are you? I miss your face.”
Chris responded to Leslie’s palm with an eager high five.
“Yeah you’re right Leslie I may just stick with beer myself.” He said as he was definitely feeling woozy at this point. Although if Tom offered him another shot, he probably wouldn’t decline.
“Yeah I’m having a good time! I’ve still got it! Millicent who?” Chris yelled a little too loudly. He couldn’t even hear himself anymore, just a dull pounding from the bass of the music.
“I want to dance!”
Ron Swanson didn’t “hang out” with people. That involved spending time with people. And talking. Tonight, however, was different. Chris was hurt and, while Ron didn’t particularly care, Leslie cared, and he respected her. Plus, the Snakehole Lounge would have Snakejuice which, due to government regulations, could not legally be sold to individual consumers by the bottle. “Another reason the government sucks,” Ron thought to himself.
He parked his car and walked through the front door. Halfway to the bar, he stumbled upon Chris. Or, rather, Chris stumbled into him. Chris made no effort to talk to him, only mumbling something about “needing to dance.”
“He should be drunk more often,” Ron thought.At the bar he found Leslie, eyes buried in her phone, and Tom, dressed like an idiot.
“Leslie. Thomas,” he said before turning to the bartender.
“Three Snakejuices, please.”Leslie watched as Chris wandered off to go dance; she was keeping her feet firmly on the floor for the moment. “Ron! Hi! So glad you stopped by!” She jerked a thumb towards Tom. “Tom got Chris plowed on Snake Juice, so I’m chaperoning both of them right now.”
When Ron ordered another trio of Snake Juice shots, she folded her arms. “So all three of those had better be for you, buddy.”
“They are,” Ron replied. “If Chris is going to be talking to me and/or having emotions, then I am not going to remember it.”
When the drinks came, he downed the first in one gulp. He combined the remaining two in one glass and began to sip on it.
Tom was glad Chris was already half past wasted. He needed it. Heartbreak was’t easy, and Tom had been there. Multiple times. It sucked, but alcohol was usually the best idea.
He’d never admit it, but it took very little alcohol to get him drunk. He was short, and even though it seemed like he drank a lot, it took very little. Probably three shots of Snake juice, four or five of anything else. So, already Tom was feeling it, but by the end of the night, he didn’t expect to feel anything.
“He needs this Leslie. And then he can be happy by working it out of his system for the next month and a half.” Tom turned and watched as Chris danced drunkenly out on the dance floor, and saw a familiar face walk up to him and Leslie. “Rontanamo! Here for some Snake Juice part two? Let’s do it!” Tom ordered three more shots, two for himself, and leaving one for Chris. Oh yeah, this night was going to be interesting.
“Rontanamo! Here for some Snake Juice part two? Let’s do it!” Ron heard Tom shout his name. Or at least an irritating play on his name.
“Son, you know I make it a point not to compliment anyone ever,” he replied, “but this stuff is probably the best thing you will ever do in your life.”
He was getting to the end of his drink and decided to order another. “Barkeep, I’m going to need another triple Snakejuice and a bucket of ribs. Not a basket. Not a rack. A bucket.”
(via tommy--timberlake-deactivated20)
