Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-31049256-20180109050017/@comment-28358106-20180206213143

(BT/S9/Drunks) Tirush bounds up and, before Thomas can say a word, grabs him and leaps into the buffet table in a body tackle.

The server shouts and dives out of the way as the table splits in half, showering the area in appetizers. Tirush leaps to her feet, hugging Thomas and wiggling him back and forth. Only his head pokes out of the top of the cocoon of wings.

"I miished you sho mush, Danthplgpth!" A plate slides off of Tirush's head and clatters to the ground. She rocks Thomas back and forth as he looks to Jorge in miserable, helpless anger.

"Hello Jorge. I see you found my wife," he mumbles.

Loosing one wing, Tirush takes a long pull of the jug of cider, the drink running in rivulets from the corner of her mouth as she gulps.

"Tirush, are you...are you DRUNK?!" Thomas almost shouts, trying to turn his head and look at her.

"I LLLOOOOVE MMY HUSHMAND!" She bellows defiantly to no one in particular, holding up the jug and sloshing its contents. The alchohol is taking its toll and her eyes begin to well with tears of joy.

"My hushmand ish PERFECTPTH! NnnNnnNnNOBODY'SH hushmand ish like mine!  He...he LOVESH me, an'...an' he'sh SHMELLSH good!  And he makesh a...a...love VERY good!  I LOVE EVERYTHIN' 'BOUT HIM, AN...an...AN I DON'T CARE IF HISH PENISH IS N'T ASH BIG ASH SOME MEN!"

She's stepped atop a crate and is practically giving a drunken sermon. Thomas, his face bright red and mortified, is trying to sink into her wings and hide.