View source for Charmed I'm Sure

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== Log Info ==
*Title: Charmed I'm sure.
*Emitter: Cryosanthia
*Characters: Braelnoir
*Place: A05: Ox-Strength Tavern
*Time: Monday, August 03, 2020, 7:06 PM
*Summary: Cryosanthia, Braelnoir and Firestarter awake in the common of the Ox Strength the morning after, and go through the groaning awakening process that is being shared by the other patrons that have similiar wild nights. Cryo rushes out to finish the jobs she didn't the night before, while Braelnoir realizes what happened to her. Firestarter is slower to catch on, explaining that she knows Lars, and he is sort of a friend, whom she doesn't like very much. Further questioning determines he's been using Charm Person on her on a regular basis to go adventuring, and other female adventurers, as well as making her partner leave. Firestarter had some hints, but Lars' natural and magical charm were enough to make her think it she was experiencing some form of love. Now, her passions are turned more towards murdering him into a puddle of acid. The two exit the Ox-Strength and continue their discussions outside. Cryosanthia rejoins them as they consider methods and allies who would be able to assist. A quick assault, a ranged assault, something with magic, or an attack with alchemical devices are discussed. No plan is settled on, but the trio decide to check their resources, get what help they can, and regroup.</div>

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A05: Ox-Strength Tavern *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The worst sailors, mercenaries, thugs and dock-workers frequent this place, making it one of the most dangerous bars in the city. Its wooden floors and sturdy furniture are scarred from brawls, and the plaster on the walls is broken away in places from the brick underneath. Tucked against the large, steel diamond-paned windows are a few narrow booths providing a view of the street and all its traffic while letting smoky sunlight stream in and preventing patrons being thrown out through them. Little lamps hang from the ceiling beams to provide light when the sun goes down.

At the back is a long bar of pitted, much-polished oak sitting beneath a bay of cupboards. Its here that the owner of the bar can usually be found operating the taps and fiddling with the large copper samovar on one end against the wall when she isn't out serving drinks and basically running the whole bar. There's even a few potted violets behind the bar in the open case where bottles are stored. There's a sign in chalk listing the house specialities, along with whatever will be being served for dinner that night. 

The food and drink here is good, despite the clientele's rough and frankly undesirable nature and the smell of pipe tobacco and beer that never seems to come out of the wood; the most popular thing being the curries redolent with spices and the hard ciders, both of which she makes herself in the kitchen. Part of the bar itself, it should be noted, bears the marks of electric damage, with spidery black burn marks radiating out from a charred spot right near the inner edge, where the 'tender stool is located. 

Over against one wall is a pot-bellied wood stove, with two much-abused leather chairs facing it. Near to that is a locked door that appears to lead to the owner's apartment above the Ox, while a pair of swinging doors at the end of the bar leads to the kitchen.
                 
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<pre>-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     267 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Braelnoir    5'11"    146 Lb     Human             Female    A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver.
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'''The Ox-Strength Tavern'''

Eventually, the fight winds down and those who aren't knocked out resume drinking until they pass out. The morning after a fight, which is every morning, is a painful awakening with a combination of bruises and hangovers. Everything hurts, some joints feel wonky, the head pounds and counting the remaining teeth is one way to build awareness.

The owner of the Ox-Strength hasn't chased everyone out yet, that will happen soon, but for the moment there's the peace that comes with the aftermath of a battle.

Cryo lies sprawled out, sleeping belly down in a proper sith-makar position, a casualty of too many drinks. She made for a cool body-pillow, that helped with the head of the night.

A flame coloured Arvec Nar, Firestarter, stirrs with a snort, "Hgggg. Mornin'."

Around the main room, there are a few other moans and groans as the sun leaks in and the other patrons shuffle to this side of sleep.

There's a splash of silky silver strands over sith and Arvek alike, much like the steelshod limbs of Braelnoir who found herself in the interesting position of cuddling in with a cooler on once side and a space heater on the other. Either due toe adrenaline afterglow, the heavy inebriation or some combination, the merc slept like the dead, bereft of the usual onslaught of night terrors that crep up from time to time. As her cozy spot starts shifting, she murmurs and brings a hand up to rub a knuckle at her eye, "Time'zzit...?"

Cryo's eyes open, and they look as impassive and featureless as always. A strong inhale that bellows out her chest indicates her achieving consciousness. "Morning... still? This one... does not know." She yawns, long and widely, with the same number of teeth she came in with earlier. Friendly fighting definitely was.

The cozy warmth against Braelnoir shifts, sitting up with a creak of her limbs. She combs her fingers through the silver hair, "Too early for anything fun."

Braelnoir mmmm's softly as she tenses certain arrays of muscles against each other, then carefully starts to disentangle herself, "Never'appen, luv..." she challenges in a lingering, dreamy tone before she manages to sit up. There is a shifting bulge in one cheek, then another as her jaw works as she makes her own inventory check.

The whitescale sith pushes herself up and pulls herself into a seated position. There are a few grunts as she does. She rubs at her horns and rocks her neck from side to side, grinning and sighing happily. "Thank you, this one needed that. Now this one needs a lot more ice for her head."

"S'okay," is all Firestarter says, as she gets herself up off the floor. She works her shoulder, first the right, then the left, finally cracking her back. "Thanks for bringin' me glove back. Good seein' you again. Wasn't expectin' it a all."

Braelnoir gives Cryo a quick hug as she checks herself over, "Anytime, luv." she croons warmly, then pushes herself up to her feet and offers the sith a hand up, even as she looks to Firestarter. "Sure thing, 'Star. Been meanin' ta catch up with ya fer a mo-SHIT!" she breaks off suddenly with a shouted, honest to god stomping fit, "Son o a BITCH! He was here-I HAD HIM. That-that motherFUCKER!"

"Ice! Scales!" Cryo jolts to attention, then painfully winces. She looks over at her scale-sister, "I've still got two fishermen's tanks to do, and a fishing boat. Wait, who are you talking about? What are you talking about? I... I'll be back really quick. Don't leave before I get back."

She leans to hug, nods formally towards Firestarter and regrets it, then leaps to her feet. Her leather dress-armour is disarrayed, but she has her haversack with her and that seems to be everything. She dances across the room, her large feet landing between the bodies and then she slips out the door.

Firestarter rubs at her nose, blinking at Braelnoir, "Who? ... You mean Lars...? You were..." A curious series of emotions crosses her face, all the more startling as arveks' are known for their stoicism. Although, Firestarter does tend to show more than most. She displays confusion, possibly affection, then anger, finally her face returns to something impassive.

Brae is a good sized ball of angry as she is hugged, which cools her a touch and she closes her eyes and sighs in Cryo's arms, then nods, "Th'Colloseum fucker." she growls, then returns the hug as best she can, before she looks to Firestarer, "Izzat's name?" she wonders, "Lars? It's more'n I had, before...." Her anger still boiling under the surface, there are little threads and whispers of gold flickering flickering through the wolfish amber of her irises, then, "You a'ight....?"

"No." Firestarter says, surprisingly quickly, clenching her fists, forcing them to relax and open again. "It's Lars. He's not bad once you get to know him, except.. last night I saw him with you and I wanted to belt him so hard..."

Her voice trails off, then starts up again, a fire burning in her eyes, "He's an ass. Every time I think of him I just want to kill him... then..." She looks even more confused.

Braelnoir frowns a little, "How long ya known that son of a bitch?" she asks, sounding vaguely troubled, though her eyes narrow, "I think he's been puttin' th'whammy on ya, luv.... then he got me, after I slugged'm."

"Since just after the tank." The hobgoblin locks her teeth together, her cheek muscles turning into rocks. There's a hard edge of anger in her voice, "A whammy?" She gets the confused look again, as if she's having trouble remembering or has been encouraged to avoid thinking about something. Her voice gets louder, "He'll leave me for days, ignoring me, and just when I think I'm done with him he shows up, says a couple things, and we have a wonderful day. Goes great. I'm feeling fine."

"Then the next day every prick trick he's turned comes back to me and I wonder why. We're going out. Adventuring. The money's good, sometimes I think it's the only thing good."

That golden storm intensifies in Braelnoir's eyes, and, after her pupils start twitching, as if struggling to stay circular, she brings a hand to cover them, gnashing her teeth, "....that..... son of a.......bitch...!" She doesn't say anything, after, but engulfs the Arvek in her arms, "I'mma kill'm... I'ma kill'm fer a gods damned week!" Then as she draws back, her hand flicks and twists into two signs, /Mind magic./

Awareness seems to flicker in Firestarter's eyes. Perhaps it's the handsign, perhaps it's simply speaking it aloud. "The... tha bastard! I thought I was in love. I..."

Her face freezes, then she roars and slams her fists into the floor, "Tha's why Terry left! She came in hot, saw us t'gether, Lars says he'll talk her down, give 'im some alone time. Nex'thing she's signed on a ship, lifelong dream, gone that day."

"Then he's consolin' me! Then we're adventuring. Tha FUCKER!"

Her scream rouses every other body spread about the common room, to quiet moans, groans and shut-ups. Firestarter is lit, she looks ready to explode, "Kill'em now. We gotta put him down, now."

Braelnoir crouches down to meet Firestarter's eyes as she looks up from her venting, "Yeah...." she assures the Arvek, then, as she drapes her forearms over her knees, "Gotta question... He ever talk ta anyone else.... mebbe a fuckin' bird, by any chance...?"

Firestarter is still fuming, her chest heaving with angry breaths, the air whistling through her nostrils, "Yeh, he talks ta everyone. Freelances at the Coloseum, Explorer's Guild, round the Inns. Brings in monsters for the games, does assignments."

She frowns, her lips locked and tense, "Usually all women. We fight, he sings, tries to pick them up. He's a bard, he'll stand up enthrall a whole room. Haven't seen a bird tho."

The arvek growls, eyes tense, "He's asked me not to come looking for him, give him his space, and I'm fucking fine with that! It's when he shows up, then I'm puppyin' along behind him. Now I know why! Thought I was goin' insane."

"We need ta take'm smart." Brae says grimly and looks around, still visibly seething, though her eyes, at least, look normal, "I's half hopin ta tie them together, mebbe squeeze him ta find her..." whoever 'her' is, but, "C'mon, we're drawin' eyes, luv."

"Yeh," Firestarter stands, adjusts her gear, slips her gauntlet on and closes it tight. It's done wonders to a shark, it would do amazing things to an eel. "He see's me first, usually. Tap on my shoulder, 'hey', from behind and I'm happy to see him."

She blinks, "Had a few say, 'he cast something', had a guard once ask if I knew him. Lars played it off, I said he was a friend." She growls. "Missed tha' fuckings signs."

She turns, staring desperately at Braelnoir, "He'll be back, few days, another spell, I'm sure. Follow me aroun', you're bound to find him. Hell, he'll try you as another mark, given a chance. You got any friends, real good friends, with strong minds? We mess this up and he gets charms off, we'll jump into a waterfall for 'im."

"Never tried on that score." Brae concedes, but, "I'ma ask around." She looks to the gauntlet on Firestarter's fist, then absently wiggles the fingers of her bare hand, "Know a few mages, though, gonna see what I can do about that mojo he keeps throwin'."

Firestarter nods, then frowns, "He gets it off fast. Pretends he's playing, blows a kiss through the hearts. Shit. Fuck. Poor Terry, where'n'tha Hell is she, thinking I hate her now. Bastard. Fuckin' Bastard. You see me with him, don't let on, I might tell him if he thinks to ask if we're on to him. Can't believe I thought I liked Lars!" She's heading for the door, stepping over and on people, not really caring. 

They aren't caring much either.

The silver maned merc takes a small vial from her bandolier as she follows 'Starter out, uncorks and tosses it back before absently the container on the floor. Brae nods, some and, "I'l try." she says, "Gotta get ta my place fer th'rest o'my kit, but ya wanna come with ya can." Probably best they not seperate, anyway.

"Yeh, I'll come." Firestarter says, watching the vial get discarded. She steps outside the Ox-Strength into the late-morning sun and the longshore type activities. She looks around, "Are you waiting for yer white lizard friend?"

Braelnoir brings her bare hand to her face and massages her temples, willing her conccotion to kick in already, she needs to clear the headache so she can think clear, "Shit, yer right.... yeah, should wait." she replies. Another vial is taken out of her pouches and offered to Firestarter, "Alchemist's kindness, take care o'that hangover."

Firestarter takes the vial with a laugh, "Does it fix loose teeth too?" She knocks it back, opens the Ox Strength's door and tosses it in like a dud grenade. She closes her eyes, mimics the rubbing temples motion. "Yeh, can feel it working. Well hopefully she won't be long."

The fiery Arvek looks her way, her face flushed and bright. She is worrying a small tusk with her tongue, then abandons that, it's staying in. "You got any idea how ta handle this? Lars is popular. Well... seems popular. Acts like he's doin' ya a favour, being around. Nah idea how many else don't want him around."

"Got m'friend from th'Colloseum, the grand prize winner." Brae replies, "Solid, knows's shit. Didn't much care fer how Lars done me." She looks around some, seeing if anyone's taking any particular note of them.

Firestarter fumes, looking around for something to punch. The door frame of the Ox-Strength ends up being her target, receiving a solid slam from her gauntlet which leaves the oak sizzling and turning dark. "That were a shit show, 'specially that you weren't a summon. I 'member your guy, punchy, seemed ok."

No one around seems to be taking much note of the pair. Passing workers do look over, but not for long, a pair of warrior women outside one of the most notorious bars in Alexandria would be best to stay on the good side of. So, no catcalls. No Lars, slinking back.

Stay on their good side, especially when they're obviously angry. Or hung over. Or... both. Both? Very dangerous. Brae reaches out to clasp 'Starter's shoulder, "It probably woulda been more fun if I had more time getting used ta that body, at least. Never could figure out what th'glowy blue shit was all about." a quick sigh then a lower, "You.... ok?"

"No!" Firestarter spins around with the touch on her shoulder, her eyes hard and angry. Perhaps even that contact was a bad reminder, "Thought I was goin' insane. Ter leaves, he's an ass to me all the time we're t'gether, but tha's fine. Next day, 's buggin' me, then he shows it's all sunshine an' puppies again. Huntin' mobs, I took some shots for him, hard hits. Adventurin' life hurts, but..." she waves her gauntleted hand around, "... I'm why, why? Wha' the hell is wrong with me? Everyone pullin' back a tha guild. His friends my only friends now, an' they're all actin' weird-normal too. Stupid 'cutsey' things he was makin' us do, like last night, 'fight an' show how much you love me'. Him an tha damned spells."

Braelnoir's hand comes off the shoulder as Starter whirls on her, the tention in her limbs spiking as she reflexively gets ready for another fight, though she eases off as the other woman get s it out of her system. She nods a few times, then, "She's still out there. She's tough. We sort Lars out, I'll help ya find'er." It'd probably take both of them to sort all the pieces once they're done with him.

There's a cold presence behind Braelnoir, the temperature dropping several degrees. It's Cryosanthia, having quietly arrived while Arvek Nar was voicing her frustrations, and confusion. The sith has a fuzz of hoarfrost along her snout and down her throat which is slowly melting in the shade. She says firmly, "It's not your fault. You're not crazy. It's hard to get someone out of your head when they have been manipulating your reality. Painful. They leave garbage. Garbage you think is your fault. I'm sorry, I overheard. Was someone using memory erasing spells on you?"

Her head turns, she looks at Braelnoir, then back at Firestarter.

The Arvek Nar, for her part isn't breathing as hard. She makes a small nod towards Braelnoir, "Sorry a'that. He touches 'Hello' tha way when I'm not looking. Ter will be fine, yer right, more fine soon as we handle this guy." Her eyes flick suspiciously towards Cryo, back to Brael, "She ok? Not sure this is her business."

Braelnoir's hand flickers the sign of (Sister) at her side as she nods, "She is." She gives a somewhat concerned look to Cryo as she talks about getting in someone stuck in your headspace and she gently touches her arm with her bare hand. She looks between the two and, "It's... mebbe lookin' like it."

Firestarter nods again, giving the whitescale sith a long examination, looking her up and down. She's slow to trust, it helps somewhat that they met the night before, and that the sith is dressed down in working armour that's taken some real damage. The cold and subtly aloof aura coming off the woman, doesn't. Brael's words go far, tipping the balance, "A'right then. Hi, I'm Firestarter."

"I've seen you before, at the airship annoucement and the colosseum," Cryo says enthusiastically, holding out a hand. "This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith-Makar, local disaster show, and on Korsdays, an Ice-Box girl, 'Freeze 'em if it Please 'em'." She makes a small laugh, her hand hangs out there, unshaken. She coughs, "Just-a trying to be friendly, a joke. Sorry, sounded pretentious after I said it."

Firestarter snorts, finally shakes her hand, "S'okay."

Both end up looking at Braelnoir after, Cryo saying, circling her fingers at her own head, "I've some experience with mind manipulations. Being, mostly. Unsuccessfully resisting. This is about you though, Firestarter, what do you need? How can I help her Brae?"

Braelnoir smiles fondly and nods, as the two seem to have settled their initial 'moment' and she steps a little closer, thinking on things a moment, "Dunno about th'mojo side of't, Cry... think finding dear Lars an' maybe beat'm inta pate' with our spiked gauntlets'd be a good start."

"I need mo' a her, helpin' me straighten my mind out. I owe ya'." Firestarter says, grinning warmly at Braelnoir, the oranges and reds of her skin all a-glow. "I like tha gauntlet idea."

Her own grinds a little as she squeezes it tighter.

Cryosanthia nods, "I've found if there's something you can't believe you did, some action that's totally against your nature, something you'd never do, like break a vow or attack someone you care about, that's evidence of something they changed, some way they manipulated you. Do you have any memories like that Firestarter?"

The fiery Arvek Nar gives the whitescale a long stare. "Yeah, a bunch."

Cryo slowly nods her head again, carefully asking, "Is beating him going to be fast enough? Kor, Chuckles, were really quick at turning people. Just a finger-flick."

Braelnoir frowns and shrugs, "Flash powder, thunderstones, tanglefoots, those could work ta slow'm down. Once we're in close, we can truss'm up an' go from there, but... I dunno." She glances at Cryo, a moment, arching an eyebrow, then, "We need somethin ta sheild our inds at least long enough ta subdue'im."

"Right, otherwise we might find ourselves fighting each other." Cryosanthia nods, then her neck straightens and she has an actual expression, something like shock, "Wait! Was that what happened last night? I don't remember anyone casting on me. Did someone and I forget too? I'm sorry, this one apologizes, Brael, Firestarter. I am so sorry. I need... to fight sometimes... when it's bad."

Firestarter chuckles at Cryo, then waves her hand dismissively, "All those sound good. There's some magic items, but the' expensive. Maybe some spells. How about your friend, he's a ranger right? Just shoot 'em from far mebbe."

Braelnoir smirks a little and touches Cryo's arm again, "I think he's gone when you come in... ya just needed some proper release." She looks to Firestarter again with a little grin, then, "Mebbe we sort this all out we find Ter, an just have ourselves a friendly little rumble. Just us gals." A hmmm, then, "Dunno, mebbe Lan'd like a piece, too, not sure how he'd feel about our kinda fun."

Cryosanthia relaxes with the reassurances, and the touch, that calms her. "Okay, I... thanks Brae." She smiles. All of her frost and melted and left a wet ring around the collar of her leather armour. "A friendly little rumble sounds great."

She hrms thoughtfully, "Lanier is a good guy, he'll help. He might have some ideas."

Firestarter also seems to be thinking tactically, "Have ta make sure Lars isn't around any of his other girlfriends. They'd be a problem, till they grok what's up, but that'll be after they snap out of it." She growls thoughtfully, "Mebbe there's a way to trick him to snap 'em out. Mebbe just... someone with a lot a Dispells, castin' over an over. Can you cast that Icy?"

"It's Cryo please," the whitescale says, "and... no."

"That mighta been interestin', back when." Brae murmurs under her breath, then looks between the woman, "Well, thunderstones also got the benefit of, it can stop'm hearing commands an such. Still react t'us beatin' the shit out've him, but they may not be able ta coordinate."

"Maybe hand them notes." Cryo suggests, then quickly defends it, "they might read them in combat, 'You're mind controlled', it might stop them, make them think a round or two."

She is perhaps too optomistic.

Firestarter grins at Braelnoir's quiet comment, winking and adding, "Always time for a next time. Lars a'n't hard ta find, it's findin' him alone, no girls, no audience, no business contacts. I swear, he could turn ta an ooze in a bucket if no one was aroun' an' ye'd never see it, 'cause he's always out smoozin', somewheres."

Braelnoir blinks and cants her head, eyes brightening, "Oh.... there's an idea, too!" she says with a grin, "I know there's ways ta put magic on paper so ya just hafta read it. We can turn's ass into a fuckin' slime!"

Cryosanthia nods eagerly, "Yes, you could make it a fancy greeting card, put some perfume on it. Something romantic he'd want to open, get excited about receiving."

The suggestion earns the white Sith a look from the Arvek.

"I read a lot of the Crimson Pen, it, rrr..." Cryo makes a loose, rapier fencing motion with her right hand, "... I'm trained for opportunity parries and witty repartees. Not to overcomplicate things, but it should be something he wants to open, would trust, whatever that looks like."

Firestarter laughs quietly, simply repeating, "fuckin' slime. 's what he deserves."

Braelnoir hmmmm's, "Not sure who we know who can swing that.... Morg, maybe Merek?" she says, the crook of a finger against her lips. The Korite wants to make it a fight. The Pragmatist wants to take him down, smart. The woman wants him to pay and be certain.

"Merek..." Cryosanthia says, her voice trailing off. She ends up standing with her hands clasped in front of her, looking down at her feet, and a tracing of their outlines on the cobblestones. "... he was hurt real bad, Brael, by the Demon Duke. He can barely talk about it. I don't know where to start, what to tell him. He'd want to help, in a heartbeat. I don't know if it would help him, if he wouldn't... fall into something worse."

"Morgan would be better, I think. Her great-grandmother was Fae. She's probably got spells for turning people into all sorts of things."

Firestarter nods, wanting it over. Much like Braelnoir, wanting Lars to pay, but also wanting to be sure. "Let's look inta all those things. Mebbe you an' me Brae." The Arvek Nar glances in the white Sith-makar's direction, "Don't know if you got things ta do. Figure I'll be a target for him iff'n I'm about on my own."

Braelnoir hrm's and nods, "Yeah... we're gonna hafta work with'm fer a while, Cryo." she concedes, then turns her attention to Fire, a brief amusement at the notion that she's got hot and cold to either hand, then back to business, "Yeah, wanna make sure he doesn't put th'whammy on us again. There's some alchemists I need ta hit up an restock my stores."

"This one... does have things to do at Mictlan," Cryo admits, looking up sheepishly, although her answer seems anticipated by the Arvek Nar, and perhaps, desired. The white Sith adds, "This one can ask, Un'eth, Iuitl, Geir, might have something of assistance. The Shamans and Lore-Keepers also. It is not a barren option."

Firestarter nods to Braelnoir, "Should do tha' myself. Refill. How about you an' I go, keep an eye out, get the things. You too, white stuff, watch fer a bard, Lars, won't take long for him to say his name. Bronzed skin, blond, big ego, always talking about himself, likes crowds."

"Like you said, Bard," the whitescale grins.

"Yep, bard."

Braelnoir gently touches Cryo's arm and growls a soft, "Be careful, sister. Be strong." And she turns toward Firestarter, 'Yeah, let's get to't. They should be pretty well stocked this early, yet." <draconic>

Cryo slides along that touch into an embrace where she hugs Braelnoir strongly, and cooly. "This one shall, sister. Peace on your Nest and watch your tail." She releases, stepping back and making a Warrior-caste gesture towards Firestarter, where she strikes her chest, then thrusts a fist. She echoes the wish given to her. <draconic>

"Be Strong, Firestarter. Be the thing others break themselves on."

An Angorite blessing, one the Sith has been finding comfort in, and one that might be appropriate and help the fiery Arvek as well. 

Braelnoir returns the embrace fondly and nods nuzzlingly against her sister's neck, "Till next time, luv." she says then moves to show Fire where she gets her usual loads, "Now, E'might give ya an eyebalin', that ain't personal... just alla fumes over th'years done something to's eyes, so when he squints atcha don't takt't ta heart....." she advises just to head off trouble before they get there....

Firestarter nods to the Sith as they depart. She's heard that before. It's a good wish. It doesn't sink in or evoke anything, being strong is more than words. She walks with the one she's seen the strength of, the one that broke her out of a prison she wasn't even aware she was in. "Heh, I'm eyeball'd all the time. Show me your guy. Then let's get somethin' that fuck mine right up."

"Bye Snowball!" She waves, they're gone.

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