Vincent looked up. Magnolia’s chest was across the table from him. He grinned stupidly, and tried to make a dumb joke. Magnolia apparently didn’t notice.
Dude, your dreams are really fucked up. Also, I don’t think you’re awake enough to attempt motor function.
Magnolia looked at him. He hoped she didn’t notice the drool caused by his little nap. She gently picked him up and walked him to the restroom.
Vincent. Wake up.
Vincent. Wake UP!
Vincent heard a splash. Also, he was suddenly awake, cold and his nostrils kinda burned.
“You coherent yet?”
She dunked him in the sink again.
“OKAY! I’m alert! What the fuck happened?”
“I gave you some booze. Apparently, you can’t handle it, and nodded right off.”
“Weird. You’d think someone from the southwest USA could handle their liquor. And guns. And whores. And-”
“Enough with the stereotypes. Fuck.”
She just lied to your face. I think she spiked your drink.
Vincent opened his mouth, then closed it again and fidgeted in place.
“Hey, could I get a moment? I gotta piss.”
Magnolia shrugged and walked out.
“Spiked my drink, voice-in-my-head? I don’t think she’d blatantly disregard fae custom or shit like that. Besides, she mentioned she wanted a moment of me not being insane!”
Okay, point. I’ll need more information, though. Don’t drink any more of that drink, and pay attention to the paperwork she did or did not do.
“You’re awfully suspicious and alarmingly competent lately.”
It could be that she smacked the smart out of you and into me during any one of the many sparring sessions these past few weeks.
“That’s the stupidest reasonable explanation I’ve ever heard.”
Shut up, stupid. Let’s go check on Mags before I decide to strangle you with the cheap toilet paper in here.
Magnolia was humming along with the music the band was playing when Vincent returned to their table.
“What took you so long?”
“You know how long it is.”
Cue trademark glare. There it is!
Magnolia grabbed Vincent by the collar and drug him to the stage, where the band was just leaving and literally tossed him in front of the microphone.
A spotlight turned on and pointed at him. So did nearly every head in the building. Vincent started to sweat. He turned to Magnolia. She glared.
“Do something entertaining.”
He turned to the microphone. His voice cracked.
“Ahem. Well, I’m off to a brilliant start. My voice cracking, and stage fright.”
A few people chuckled.
Nice save.
“So, the voice in my head is telling me that I should probably stick to what I know. But I don’t have the capacity at the moment to replicate the sound of wind blowing through an empty head, so you’ll just have to tolerate a little rambling.”
More general laughter. Vincent smirked. This might be easier than it looked.
“So, as you can tell by my accent, I’m not from around here. I’m from a place where the barren wastes are considered ‘beautiful landscape.’ I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen a cute tarantula, rattlesnake, scorpion or chupacabra.”
I don’t think you’ve seen an ugly chupacabra, either.
“But I hear you’ve got your own dangerous creatures over here. What are they called again…? Tourists?”
Oh, this is going to be a long night…