....he was a hell of a lot more respectful before he lost his memory. "He's quite pretty but why you expected him to be brilliant is beyond me. As for the rest, well, I suppose you and my father have a common opinion of me. But I won't hold it against you."
"I'm so glad," I say cheerfully, "for your opinion means ever so much to me." Still smiling, I tip my drink back with one hand, reach out with the other and seize the back of his head, yanking it forward and down. I stop about an inch short of smashing his face to jelly on the table. "Don't compare me to him again." I say as I set my glass down.
To give him credit, though, he does recover quite quickly. And it doesn't turn him off his drinks. "Well, it's not as if I could avoid him. He's quite determined, when he chooses to be. I have the foul luck to occupying more of his thoughts than I'd like. Family,"
"I fail to see why you couldn't avoid him," I snort, "and if he really makes it that impossible, we come back to killing him. Or at least threaten him with something. Maybe that busty sheriff would lend you her gun. You're meant to be resourceful, boy." He keeps refilling my glass, too, which is good. "Or get your little snarly friend to chew on him some." She's shut up too, I notice, which is welcome. "Though I must say, if you're going to fuck something canine, an actual dog is cheaper to feed and doesn't give you all that backtalk." If it wasn't for Glass, I'd say he had poor taste in women. This one's pretty enough, but she has far too much of a mouth on her, and not much of a survival instinct either. Seems obedient enough, though.
He breathes smoke and opines that, "If you'd like me to fix this, then keeping me here won't help a bit."
"Leaving you to wander the town doesn't seem to be doing a hell of a lot of good either," I shrug, "So I'm thinking taking out a few frustrations on you will serve well enough."
"We've already established that my father's a prick of many variations, and that I'm not as clever as you'd hoped. Whether that's due to inbreeding or my current affliction is up in the air, but that still leaves me an idiot either way. Oh, and I'm lacking that certain killer instinct. I'm thinking you take that as a flaw as well. Have I missed anything?"
"It's quite remarkable to me that you can remember everything but the one thing that counts," I smirk, taking another mouthful of whisky. "But no, you haven't missed anything. The question of what the hell to do with you still occurs. I'm still favouring anything that includes violence, mind, but that is a certain predilection I have. But if you have any useful suggestions, I'll listen." I glance at the bottle. Damn. "Provided you buy another bottle."
no subject
"I'm so glad," I say cheerfully, "for your opinion means ever so much to me." Still smiling, I tip my drink back with one hand, reach out with the other and seize the back of his head, yanking it forward and down. I stop about an inch short of smashing his face to jelly on the table. "Don't compare me to him again." I say as I set my glass down.
To give him credit, though, he does recover quite quickly. And it doesn't turn him off his drinks. "Well, it's not as if I could avoid him. He's quite determined, when he chooses to be. I have the foul luck to occupying more of his thoughts than I'd like. Family,"
"I fail to see why you couldn't avoid him," I snort, "and if he really makes it that impossible, we come back to killing him. Or at least threaten him with something. Maybe that busty sheriff would lend you her gun. You're meant to be resourceful, boy." He keeps refilling my glass, too, which is good. "Or get your little snarly friend to chew on him some." She's shut up too, I notice, which is welcome. "Though I must say, if you're going to fuck something canine, an actual dog is cheaper to feed and doesn't give you all that backtalk." If it wasn't for Glass, I'd say he had poor taste in women. This one's pretty enough, but she has far too much of a mouth on her, and not much of a survival instinct either. Seems obedient enough, though.
He breathes smoke and opines that, "If you'd like me to fix this, then keeping me here won't help a bit."
"Leaving you to wander the town doesn't seem to be doing a hell of a lot of good either," I shrug, "So I'm thinking taking out a few frustrations on you will serve well enough."
"We've already established that my father's a prick of many variations, and that I'm not as clever as you'd hoped. Whether that's due to inbreeding or my current affliction is up in the air, but that still leaves me an idiot either way. Oh, and I'm lacking that certain killer instinct. I'm thinking you take that as a flaw as well. Have I missed anything?"
"It's quite remarkable to me that you can remember everything but the one thing that counts," I smirk, taking another mouthful of whisky. "But no, you haven't missed anything. The question of what the hell to do with you still occurs. I'm still favouring anything that includes violence, mind, but that is a certain predilection I have. But if you have any useful suggestions, I'll listen." I glance at the bottle. Damn. "Provided you buy another bottle."