Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-35363646-20180421055455/@comment-29435884-20180425121140

This isn’t exactly how I thought my Saturday would go. One minute I’m wasting my life away, enjoying doing nothing with my weekend. Next minute my dad’s staring slack jawed at the 6 foot 5 Red Oni shaped elephant in the room.

Someone’s gotta break the ice here, so it’s down to me apparently. “So, ah, Dad? This is Hitomi. Babe? This is my old man.” For a moment you could here a pin drop in the front hall, then Hitomi’s sense of Oni hospitality kicks in.

Before I can say another word, she grabs us both around the shoulders and yanks us into the house, more or less hoisting the pair of us to the kitchen table. “So, you’re Rapture’s dad aye? Pleased to meetcha! I’m Hitomi, siddown I’ll grab us some glasses.”

You could hear crickets chirp around this kitchen table. Hitomi’s still digging through the cabinet looking for her sake dishes, and I’m left entertaining my very confused old man. “So, ah, yeah. I’ve got a girlfriend now. How’re things on your end?” I ask just before I hear “This’ll do!” from over my shoulder.

Before you can say ‘alcohol poisoning,’ three pint glasses and a bottle of premium Zipangu sake get slammed down on the table before Hitomi plonks herself down in one of the spare chairs. It’s when she props her feet on the table that I realise she still hasn’t bothered to put on any pants. Well I suppose at least one of us is comfortable in this situation.

“So, three sakes?” Hitomi asks to break the latest awkward silence. “Uh, maybe just a coffee for me, It’s pretty early” Pfft. I should have told him not to bother trying. You don’t just walk into an Oni household and refuse to drink. My girlfriend doesn’t miss a beat. “Coffee AND sake it is!”

(Six-ish hours later)

“-And that’s when the Dark Priest says keep the father and son, I’m all about them holy spirits!”

Pffthaha oh, man. I don’t even remember the build up to that joke but trust me it’s about the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Hell, I don’t even remember who was telling that one. By this point of the day, we’re all slumped around the table swigging from bottle number 5 or so and any awkwardness has been washed away in a tide of drink. “So, did you hear the one about the milk maid and the lesbian Holstaur farm?”

Ah, Alcohol. The great socialiser.