(no subject)

[laughbitterly]

No. Death is preferable to that.

Comments

[laughbitterly]

Wide eyes. Wide eyes that are gradually narrowing in irritation. How dare you, sir. "That's called alcoholism and it's very very bad for you." Said as he polishes off his own wine glass and then snatches the bottle back from Alastair.

"Now don't go drinkin' all of tis unless you're going to get me another bottle or five." It's quite the scolding, or it would be if Bernard didn't keep eyeing the quiver. "What are you, anyway, carryin' on like you've escaped from a Ren Faire? --DON'T TELL ME you're another one of Manny's friends. No wonder he tried to set us up, he's trying to get me laid. Well, if I told him once I told him a tousand times, I'm lookin' for a summer gal right now and you're not in any sort of summer dress or barefoot, or dancin' trough the fields all a-flutter. Yer just sittin' there like a lump."

Having exhausted all the angry words he feels were necessary so far, Bernard is safe to settle back down into his chair and chug this next glass of wine. And then pour another before putting it back on the-- no. No, he'll just clutch his bottle protectively against his chest instead. Screw off, Alastair.