dumbshow | probably not depressing

[Shoot actually gives him a stern look for that one; don't make this a math game. Don't. Other people don't enjoy making everything into math games, that's just you. He shrugs off the pat, too.]

I wouldn't play if you added a point system. The idea is to drink, not to win. [because he would lose, BUT WHATEVER, he's already losing with this slutty drink] In that case—

[He looks Very Seriously at the list of weird drinks, because he needs it, and he'll just order in advance a couple of-] Tie— [oh, now he's read the rest, and just barely manages to choke out the rest, more than a little red-faced] Tie me to the bed... post?

[He had hoped T would be a tricky one to follow, honestly. No one would use a drink starting with 'the', right?? But Shoot finds one just perfect, and Knuckle is glad he's already set his earlier drink down so that his uproarious laughter can make its way out without him choking on alcohol.

Really, he's really finding this hilarious. Gripping his stomach and slamming his hand on the counter and everything.]

Nice one, Shoot! Drink up to that!

[There's nothing Shoot wants to do more than vaporize on the spot for a good couple seconds after that. Unlike some people, though, the bartender at least can act like his tangible discomfort is not even there and prepare some horrendous drinks without comment.

Unlike some people. Shoot turns to look at Knuckle, despairing before his expression changes to something between annoyed and determined and he knocks back almost the whole of the rest of his drink in one go. He blinks rapidly a few times, wondering what exactly that was supposed to help-

He assumed it was going to help, somehow- it burned a little?]

Knuckle— I don't even know what's in most of these.

[What did he just chug, for example? "Boring beer guy" Shoot is unprepared.]

[He's finished with his red headed slut by the time the next one comes out, but he has to pause to watch Shoot chug down his. Whoa. That's the most he's seen him drink at once-- actually, this is the most he's seen him drink at all. Right? Probably.

His counting is horrible when he's drunk.]

In them? Who cares? [What a weird thing to ask. He lifts his, waving it under Shoot's nose a little as he offers a sly grin. Ah, the signs are clear-- the slight curl up at the corners of his lips, the more relaxed slouch over the counter-- Knuckle is already enjoying his alcohol.]

They taste good and their names are funny as hell. [Now, he drinks, for a good few seconds before he sets it down with a gasp.]

Ahhh, but you've left me with a 'T' again! That's not any fun.

[See, this is why the math game was a bad idea. Glad he made that clear.]

I'm curious- [Hi, Knuckle and Knuckle's drink. Shoot makes a face, not sure whether to direct it at the drink or Knuckle himself, so he'll just glance between them both until the drink's taken away.

Ah, yes, the telltale signs of Knuckle pre-utter and unabashed drunkenness. Not that Shoot's the picture of sobriety after drinking the slut (rip) so quickly, but he's less of an obvious slouch mainly because he's concentrating pretty hard on seeming less filled with alcohol.

All he's eaten today is hospital breakfast— that suddenly seems like a mistake, too many hours and a skipped lunch ago to fix it. Might as well see what this bedpost concoction is like, tentatively...]

Think of it as a challenge. [siiip] Don't give up two turns in.

No one said anything about giving up, fool!

[How many times has he called Shoot a fool this log?? Too many. And yet, he continues, sipping at the second half of this bed post thing a little slower. Too fast and he'll just get sick. You've got to balance, balance!]

I've got one in mind already. But I'll save it for when we're both done. I don't need you passing out on the ground right here. [As if he's one to talk.] Say, Shoot, isn't this way more than you're already used to? Come to think of it, I don't really know if you're a light weight or not...

[He never paid attention. And right now this seems okay to admit.]

[Thanks for the balancing advice before he downed that whole drink... No, he should have known. He's losing his cred as the one with the capacity for logical decisions, here.

Which is probably a direct result of the alcohol, oops. He's still making a very intense effort to look totally, 100% sober.]

How would you know? You and Morel drink too fast to remember anything every time. [He's so used to this much liquor? Surely.] I'm just fine.

[To prove it, he takes another considerable sip of the bedpost, then has to put it down a little too abruptly so his arm is free to lean on the bar, so that he doesn't wobble suspiciously.

Just fine!!]

What? I remember things just fine! [That's a lie. He can't even remember forgetting them right now?? Something like that. He sips at his drink while watching Shoot struggle a little too much there, and it's not clear if he registers this or not.]

There's no way you'd be a quiet drunk, too... [He'S SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING THIS OKAY. Ah, but it looks like his drink is done! He's fast, and even if he said he'd wait for both of them to be done, it doesn't matter if Shoot is, too. He hits the counter again.]

Next, Three Wise Men, one for each of us! [Look, he broke the 'T' chain, too!]

[Shoot turns his head to boggle a little, at that. No way he'd-? Why is he being psychoanalyzed while they're both slowly but surely approaching their liquor limits. Or at least he is. Knuckle isn't an oversized twig, so that probably contributes just as much as Shoot not downing mixed drinks in quick succession very often.

But he's definitely fine. It takes him a moment to straighten up again to nurse the rest of this drink- no, he's not done, stop going ahead.]

Why are you thinking so hard about this...? [About his drunkenness habits, that is. Just wait a little while longer.

And here comes the next drink-] Oh, it's small.

[help him]

Hahahaha!

[From loud laughter to soft chuckling, he fades out, lifting his own shot experimentally.]

It's a shot! Shoot. [It's begun.] Shot. Just uh, don't sip at it like you've been doing. Tilt your head back and knock it down in one gulp!

[Wait wait, he has to finish this one first- just a little more—]

Stop that. [That thing. He trades the empty glass for the shot, looking at it like he'd rather just sip it... but there's hardly anything in it.

Well, since he feels like he's about to wobble again and drop this everywhere, he'll just go for it and gulp it down. A moment later he coughs, realizing this was the exact opposite of helping his wobbling condition. Wow, that— was genuinely unpleasant the whole way down. He puts the glass down and coughs again.]

Don't order any more of those.

[He sort of laughs at that, but it comes out like a muffled snort into the counter. His shaking gives him away. He's going to order more. He'll order more and claim he forgot!!!]

What's the matter, you can't take it? Huh? [Sitting up again, he wobbles briefly and snatches up his shot glass, downing it in one go. Ah, it seems he can take it without coughing.]

[If he had an arm to spare he'd push Knuckle for laughing again, but alas, he can only frown at him not choking on shots. What's that like?]

It burned and it tasted horrible. [Hmph!! He turns back to the bar, to consider drinks that start with N and he sways only a little. Relatively. It's noticeable.]

Is a "Neon Iguana" small? [beat] It's too bad Mele- [words] Meleoron isn't here.

[See, because... he's a lizard, and- shut up.]

That's because you haven't had enough! You gotta build up tolerance... [Encouraging more drinking, sure. He squints over at Shoot, trying to decide if he wants to comment on him swaying or not when the question registers.

Meleoron... He snorts.]

He'd be insulted... [He thinks?] Hell if I know. Just order it and find out, like me! [He hasn't known anything he's been ordering. Spoilers.]

[Why would that be insulting?? Meleoron is a good lizard friend, he would understand... surely, these drunks.]

I can't build up tolerance in a single afternoon... [So stop ordering shots. But okay, he's going to order the lizard drinks, which are mercifully not shots- or, hm, is that actually a good thing.

He's looking at this glass like it's the gatekeeper between himself and flopping uselessly off his stool onto the floor and never getting up. It probably is. There's no hope of tolerance building up here today.]

Wait, you don't know what any of these are? [No... He was counting on one of them to not be totally ignorant here.]

Noooo, but it helps in the longrun! How do you think I got so good?

[So good, he says, when the last time they went out drinking he and Morel nearly started a fight with a stranger. On accident.]

And how the hell should I know! This isn't my usual place, I just heard it was good. It doesn't matter, so shut up and drink!

[Those are his eloquent thoughts, right before he snatches up the lizard drink and sips from it. This time, it's a little slower than his usual. It's hitting him, probably.]

["Good," Shoot mutters into his lizard drink in disbelief... He might be dangerously close to 'totally gone,' but he remembers the usual drinking antics Knuckle and Morel get up to. Yes, that's "so good," very convincing.]

Stop yelling. I think you need to loosen up more than I do.

[That's beyond untrue, but hell if he cares!! He feels plenty loosened up right now, like his ability to sit up straight might fail him at any second. Is that precisely what he was supposed to go for, because it's definitely where he's ended up-]

I thought- you were supposed to lead. You're not doing your part.

[Somewhere under these words there's a real train of thought, but he's just not getting there.]

[He laughs at that, for some reason, instead of yelling even more. Well, that's probably a good thing.]

What're you talking about, I'm as loose as I can be! [That doesn't sound great either. He drinks some more.] What am I not doing? Oh, wait, I know.

You want me to ask more things or try to get to know ya, right? [That was his idea, but--] I'm waiting for the alcohol.

That's— that's not what I meant. [He thinks that's not what he meant, anyway? He thinks he was trying to say something about Knuckle ordering them mystery drinks and terrible shots and how that's- stupid. Ah...

Or maybe he did mean the other thing, now that he thinks about it, but it's way more embarrassing being said out loud than he anticipated.]

Isn't there already enough alcohol? [He raises his mostly empty lizard glass, for emphasis. Look at it all. And with his arm off the counter he visibly tilts sideways a bit more, whoa.] —You're not making any sense.

[sweet recovery]

I'm saying, you're a stiff. When you get a little closer to falling on the floor, then we can head home!

[And that's just the beginning of the party, he thinks!! Knuckle no. He laughs now, shifting to support Shoot in that tilting. And he laughs a bit more, finally coming up with an A-name drink after all this stalling.]

Angel face. [But he says it out of nowhere, so.]

[Shoot would object on the grounds that that would mean Knuckle would likely have to carry him home, embarrassing, just like holding him up right now is embarrassing- except that he's marginally more focused on being held up right now. How is Knuckle seriously not nearly this- wobbly??]

That's not very fun— [Angel face? What is that supposed to be, is that- he can't even think the very possibility... On the other hand, he does seem much more able to stare directly at Knuckle while full of alcohol, boggling.] What?

It'll be tons of fun, just you wait! [Anything's fun after enough alcohol. He's already planning on staying with Shoot all day tomorrow to care for any hangovers, too! What a great pal he is.]

Angel face!

[He says it again, taking in Shoot's expression with some more laughter (he doesn't even realize what he's thinking, he just thinks it's funny, being here with him right now) before he points to the bartender.]

No, two angel faces! It'll be tons of fun, trust me!

[Hangovers aren't fun. He won't be able to cope, he'll evaporate on the spot.

Shoot just keeps staring at him, confused and mildly distraught, and Knuckle saying it again isn't helping— What does it mean?

... Oh, it means a drink. Ah, so he's made an idiot of himself... He looks to the bartender in imagined desperation, although of course the bartender doesn't have anything to do here besides make drinks. Maybe Knuckle didn't notice...!!]

I'd rather not fall out of my seat. [Not fun, not fun at all.]

That's what I'm here for. I'm your partner, remember?!

[He's going to get emotional if they talk about this too much, beware. For now, though, he grins and gives Shoot a squeeze with how his arm is around him, holding him up. Really, he probably doesn't have to keep supporting him, but if he's worried... Why not?]

We can watch a movie or something.

I've noticed that... [He's not sure partner duties extend to holding him up so- persistently- but he doesn't have an arm free to push him off. And, true, he did almost fall a few minutes ago.

He will endure, while staring fixedly at these new and embarrassing drinks. A movie, huh? He can do movies. Movies don't sound like a Get To Know You interrogation.]

A movie with a lot of fighting? [it's fighting or sad dog movies, Knuckle, pick your casual teasing.]

imagine knuckleshoot 1999

oh my god

rip knuckleshoot

imagine knuckle's triangle

a cool ranch dorito instead of original flavor

chOKES cool ranch is a great flavor dorito so that's acceptable

i've never had doritos but i probably wouldn't like them, hmm

ehHHH they're ok

tostitos on the other hand

i forgot those are a thing

what the fuck

shut up

ok

no subject

this took me half an hour, fuck me, fuck this good omens thing

but you survived

barely.....everything is so much more british now

LMFLDSGgdsfg ah you're lost I see

probably yes, but in a brit way

jesus

stop this loser

nope encourages it

nooo stop

never

i'm being oppressed...........