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01/17/12(Tue)20:43 No.17579869 File1326851015.jpg-(619 KB, 4800x2700, fcd17ca654153e3eb32c46f3bbaa40(...).jpg)
"We're in a difficult situation," Ian is saying. "We've been stuck in the middle of a military-politics maelstrom, and - are you even listening?"
"Yush," you say around a mouthful of brandy. "Yeah, maelstroms, it sucks. Sean?" You pass the flask to your radar operator, who shrugs.
"How'd you know I had this, anyhow?" he asks, taking a slug.
You shrug in turn. "Your mom talks in her sleep a lot - HEY! HEY! CONCUSSION!" you say, palms raised to ward off Seans wielded pillow. He settles for a crotch-shot.
You slip the pillowcase off the pillow, wait till Sean turns his back, and pounce, yanking it over his head. "Instruments-only, bitch!"
"DHUMASS MUFFAFUFFA," he roars through the pillowcase. His flailing hands find your ankle as you try to flee and he reeeels you in, getting you in a pretty good lock.
"Cut the shit, guys," Ian says.
You manage to work a foot behind Sean's ankle, and drop him to the couch, where you both continue struggling.
"Stop screwing around or I will break my foot off in your ass," Ian's voice whispers through the air like a knife on a whetstone.
The Ian Voice never fails. You and Sean stop horsing around and stand up.
"Oh," you say, embarrassed. "Hello, Sakamoto." Sean salutes the far wall before Ian can yank the pillowcase off his head.
"You boys drinking?" Sakamoto says sternly.
"Did we forget to invite you?" Ian asks.
"Yes, you did," Sakamoto says, taking the flask and plopping down on a couch. |