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.
He was in own zone. Totally grooving to the music. Maybe he’d even ask Mandy to dance later after her shift was over. He hadn’t thought about Millicent all night, maybe he could work of girls like he would this alcohol. He’d have to run a 20k tomorrow instead of his usual.
Chris looked up as he heard someone shout, “Rontonamo!” Tom had returned to the group. He decided to migrate back over there.
“Toooooommmm! Whassup buddy?” Chris stuttered out throwing his arm around Tom’s shoulders. Almost snagging his fingers in his gold chain.
Leslie was beginning to feel a bit like this might not have been the greatest idea, getting Chris drunk. After all, the unofficial slogan for Snake Juice was “lots of regret and shame.” Who knew what Chris would be like the next morning? Who knew if Chris would even be alive the next morning?
She continued to sip at her beer, going a lot more slowly than she had with her first drink. Her eyes constantly strayed over to the door to the club, looking for the familiar plaid that meant Ben had arrived. And where were Andy and April? Probably having sex in Andy’s van or something like that.
Leslie propped her chin up on her hand and watched as Chris and Tom did another round of shots.
Tom was really feeling it. Two shots in, working on his third. That’s what Snake Juice did to you.
He should have been insulted by what Ron said, but right now he was nodding his head in agreement, barely even registering what he had said in the first place. “I know, this stuff is amazing! I don’t understand why no one wants to buy it! It’s a party in a bottle!”
He was glad to see Ron order more, but this was probably it for Tom. He’d be wasted anyway, being halfway there. Like Chris was, when he wandered over and threw his arm around Tom. This was the most relaxed he’d ever seen him. It was really weird.
“I think one more round of shots is in order, and then dancing.” He pointed exaggeratedly to the dance floor, doing a weird jig thing in place. “That reminds me, I gotta text my boy Jean-Ralphio. Find out where he is. He can’t miss this!”
“Count me out of this round Tom.” Chris said pointing haphazardly at the try on the table. “I think I’ve had more than enough.”
Although Chris was steadily riding the train to black out wasted, at least part of his brain was still functioning, enough to the point where it knew he didn’t need anymore liquor in his system. It was probably his extra storage of good nutrients up there that was keep him standing at the moment.
“Did I hear we’re all in agreement for dancing!?” Chris said excitedly like a little boy on Christmas. He started doing a half-assed robot. “Leggoo!” He said with extreme enthusiasm and started leading them out on the dance floor.
This was definitely the most laid-back he’d ever been with this group, and he was loving every second of it.
Six shots of Snakejuice in a short period of time, and Ron was starting to feel the buzz. He heard a discussion of dancing and felt his face morph into a scowl. “Did I hear we’re all in agreement for dancing!?” Chris shouted over the music.
“No,” Ron retorted, “the only time a man should dance is at a wedding or on the anniversary of America’s birth.” But even as the words tumbled out of his mouth he could feel his body moving (almost) to the beat of the music.
He watched as Chris began to do a bad impression of a robot, and thought to himself “That’s not how you do that.” He decided he would just blame it on the government. Chris shouted “Leggoo!” and Ron involuntarily let out a small “Woohoo.”
When he realized what he had done, he knew that it was already over. His body was going to make him dance. Again. He ordered another shot of Snakejuice so he wouldn’t remember and began shuffling towards the dance floor.
(via xknowthyenemyx)
