(no subject)

[naturaldisasster]

 We're here. Commence the belly achin'.

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[betarade_spill]

[Although his mouth was still sizzling, the habanero was growing on him. Korbinites LOVED the heat. Perhaps not this kind, but nevertheless...]

Ah, suffereth not gloom, Oni Girard! Beta Ray Bill shalt not meet his demise this day. And nor shall thee, withstanding that mine supper be unmolested upon mine return.

[He playfully chomped his room-clearing pearly-whites at her. Bill had certainly not meant to shame his hostess; as far as the alien was concerned, she was as sweet as the sugar cubes he himself was ashamed of enjoying. Perhaps he did see the best in people; perhaps it was part of what made him the hero that he is. For whatever her sins, she could show a weary warrior hospitality. Crouching down, Bill pulled free the large keg from under the bar (at their garçon's bewildered, belated behest). Although it was actually a wooden cask he was after, he realized such a thing was not forthcoming in this establishment and that he would have to make do.]

In spite of all! [Hoisting the keg up with one arm, like a toy, he dug his white-gloved trio of fingers into the top and peeled it open like a particularly easy soup can. The bartender gave up, shaking his head.] Not until this hogshead be overcome, canst we call this fête, fini!

[Opeongo or not, it was an Asgard party now. And a particularly devilish drinking game was creeping into the cyborg's mind...]