Drinks 2

It’s a tired Saturday evening at Snark is the Night, the number one bar in town for disaffected college students looking to prove how little they have to prove. The bartender is KENT, and he is the most disaffected of them all.

Enter RENEE and TERRY, both already tipsy at least and dragging a couple of storm clouds behind them on a leash.

RENEE: By the time I got back, both of them were gone and so was the money. There was blood, though. Not a whole lot of it, but enough. I skipped town. Turns out the Mexicans had gotten involved.

TERRY: Dumb shit, you knew one of them had a son in Detroit. Would have been the easiest fucking thing to send him a picture of his favorite shirt covered in blood.

RENEE: What, like pigs blood?

TERRY: Sure.

The two of them sit down and TERRY checks his watch.

RENEE: (To Kent) Two Cosmos. What are you having, Terry?

TERRY: The usual.

RENEE: Three Cosmos.

KENT: I love it.

KENT begins mixing their drinks. RENEE sits still for a few seconds before she begins fidgeting.

RENEE: Jason’s dumb ass is late.

TERRY: Why in God’s name are you in such a hurry to see him? He owe you money?

RENEE: Fifty bucks. Bet me he could get our History of Cinema professor to give him a pass on the, ah, ‘paper’ he wrote by, and I quote, “puttin’ tha moves on dat shawty.”


RENEE: She is both a lesbian and married. This has come up before with him present.

TERRY: It was cruel of you to take advantage of him like that.

RENEE: Your lip is twitching.

TERRY: I never said it wasn’t funny.

VIC walks in hurriedly and obviously furious.

VIC: What are we talking about?

TERRY: Oh, Jason lost a b-

VIC: No one cares. Let me tell you about this bitch I know.

RENEE: (Singing) Had a drink about an hour ago…

VIC: So this girl is Donna. Remember Donna? Blonde, top-heavy. Total cunt. We dated for about a year. Anyway, I’m at the Objectivist Student Alliance-

TERRY: Fucking of course.

VIC: Shut up, parasite. So I’m at the Objectivist Student Alliance and who should show up but her.

RENEE: What did she do?

VIC: What do you mean, ‘what did she do?’ She showed up! How could she be so fucking selfish? God, she always had to take everything away from me.

TERRY: There are no words. There just aren’t any words.

VIC: See, Terry understands. And you’re just sitting there trying not to laugh, Renee. Is it funny to see me bullied like this? Is it?

RENEE: In a word? Yes.

VIC stews as JASON, looking exceptionally depressed, walks in and sits down at the bar next to TERRY.

JASON: You wouldn’t believe what happened to me today. My swag finally failed.

RENEE: I told them and they didn’t care. Pay up.

JASON: Can I just pay for your drinks tonight?

RENEE:…You’ve discovered my only weakness.

JASON: Ha ha, fuck yeah. AmEx to the rescue.

TERRY: Future Jason must be a badass without equal. I mean, he’s graduated and paid off his credit card.

VIC: Future Vic is more of a badass.

TERRY: I’m sure he is.

JASON: Hey, come on man. You’re supposed to stand up for me.

TERRY: Jason, this is one of those times where I’m going to ask you to shut up for your own damn sake.

RENEE: I remember the last time you said that. Vic was in the hospital for a week. He needed a transfusion.

VIC: I have O-. It’s the universal donor.

TERRY: You take odd pride in shit that could not possibly matter less.

VIC: It mattered that time. I nearly died.

RENEE: Truly a tragedy was averted that day.

JASON: I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember a lot about that night.

TERRY: I…do.

RENEE: Show us the scar. They made it look like a happy face.

TERRY: Fuck you. It was the Bloods, what the hell was I supposed to do, say ‘no?

KENT arrives with four shots of something vile.

KENT: You people have weird definitions of the word ‘vacation.’

VIC: We don’t go on road trips; we go on experiences.

RENEE: I’m forced to agree. Though I’m pretty sure we all have different definitions of the term ‘experience.’

JASON: My definition is ‘any event that entertaining, interesting, and/or humiliating stories can be told about after the fact.’

TERRY: That’s…uncharacteristically apt.

JASON: Fuck, it is? Well, I don’t see any arabs around here, so I think we’re in the clear.

TERRY: We’re never in the clear.

VIC: That’s right, you were in Afghanistan.

TERRY: Why do you think I’m two years older than all of you?

VIC: I just thought it was because you were a shitty student.

RENEE: Why don’t we change the subject before Vic ends up needing another transfusion.

VIC: I’m O-. It’s the universal donor.


RENEE: I didn’t know you were an alto.

TERRY: Laugh it up, bitch.

RENEE: Don’t mind if I do.

JASON: Can I laugh?

TERRY: Go nuts.

JASON: Hey Kent, can we get some peanuts over here?

KENT wanders off.

TERRY: (to Renee) The secret is making it work for you.

RENEE: I feel ya. My sister’s like that, too; she’s so desperate to atone for making my childhood a living hell that she’ll actually buy me weed if I tell her I had a bad day.

VIC: My younger brother is obsessed with showing me up.

RENEE: Jesus, here we go.

VIC: Every time we’re both visiting home, he’ll insist on gassing up the car or making our mom her dinner.

JASON: Doesn’t she have MS, though?

VIC: Damn right she does; he has her eating out of his hand, the selfish bastard.

TERRY: You’d have made a really effective girl.

RENEE: Fuck you!

TERRY: Not good. Effective.

RENEE: I really don’t think you understand why I was offended.

TERRY: My god. They’ve become self-aware.

JASON: Don’t panic. I know how to make a homemade EMP.

RENEE: Cool your jets, Sergeant Reese. And don’t think you’re off the hook, Terry.

VIC: You two should fight.

TERRY: Marine, remember?

RENEE: I’d still kick your ass.

VIC: Maybe you should fuck instead.

JASON: That’s what I keep saying.

TERRY: I am willing to chalk up those last two comments to the fact that you’re both drunk. This is charity. I will not be so generous if you go on.

VIC: Ooh, did I-

TERRY: I’ll start with your genitals. Easy enough to remove. They tend to stand in the way of what comes next. That’s your legs. I run a knife down from your hip to your ankle and cut around both like the seams on a shirt. If I’ve done it right, I can dig my fingers into the flesh and take the skin off of it in one sheet. Rinse and repeat for the other leg. The arms work about the same; it’s just the hands that become a pain in the ass. You have to do each finger individually. Now, the torso can be problematic. Lots of organs you have to consider and a shit ton of blood vessels to avoid if you don’t want to make a mess. I’m good, though, so that won’t be a problem. In the end, the skin will look kind of like a vest. I can actually make it into one if I felt so inclined. Or you could shut up.

VIC: I’ll be good.

RENEE: I was waiting for tonight’s psychotic rant. Nothing’s ever going to top the one about Tom from high school, though.

TERRY: You can’t fault me for trying.

JASON: Kent, I need a large amount of brandy to bring back the warmth that just left me.

KENT: Yeah, me too. Jesus.

RENEE: On a related note, you never told me about what happened with your whole “Regina Plan.”

TERRY: I won’t need to. You’ll know.

VIC: Can you do it to Donna?

TERRY: Donna has not wronged me, Vic. My code of honor prevents it.

VIC: You’re so self-centered, Terry, you know that?

RENEE: Too drunk to even make the joke.

VIC: You know, I have feelings, Renee.

JASON: Vic would you shut the fuck up? I will cap you. It will suck. Though our universe is vast and we are but dust motes, God himself in all of his unknowability will cringe at how much of a bitch death you will die if you continue.

RENEE: Fucking incredible.

The rest of the conversation is significantly less intelligible, owing to the eight jäger bombs that arrive. TERRY is the first to pass out at about eleven thirty.


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