[But but but Freddy. You can have fun with this old fart can't you? It's not the same as buddy fun but...maybe? Shit the sentiment would bend the old man out of shape in a few places.
For now though, he smiles. If his man wants to get fucked up he's gonna get fucked up.]
Tequila shots. Fuck.
[He leans back and wraps on the bar with his knuckles.]
Hey. [To whoever is on staff.] Get this guy tequila shots. [Oops. Wait.] How many?
[True enough if Larry's willing to deal with a smashed kid. It's not like they haven't gone out to get drunk before. Usually Pink's along for the ride. Tequila shots it is.]
Thanks.
[As for the public touching, he takes it just fine, it doesn't even faze Freddy though maybe it's because it's nothing particularly intimate. Yet.]
Nnnnugh. [Damn. Looks like they let the lights on. Huff. The old man fumbles for a nightstand that wasn't there. Wait. And this isn't a bed. It's a...table.]
What the-?
[Wait. Wait. It's coming back to him along with the not so great feeling headache. They took a stroll, got tired and decided this was a better place to rest before heading home than a park bench. He squints and looks at his watch. 2:26am.]
[All the noise. Ugh. Larry rolls and stops himself from falling to gauge the distance that the kid fell.]
Y'alright?
[Blink. Blink. A few tries and he offers a hand to the kid if he wants to climb up. Already the old man knows his back is stiff in the worst kind of way.]
[Whine. He'll take that paw though and get back up to his feet. It was a short distance for a short Orange. Just when he turns around though he nearly crashes into...it.]
HOLY FUCK!
[The statue's as big as he is (bigger) and covering its eyes. It's poised behind Larry's head at the end of the table.]
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