Patater, 17? Bonus for it being their first off-ice interaction
These award ceremonies got longer every damn year. Hockey players weren’t made to wear suits this long, Kent thought, loosening the knot of his tie as the limo pulled up to the hotel. There was no talk of an after party, all them sobering up now from various states of intoxication throughout the night, and they looked as ready for bed as Kent felt.
“We’re getting old,” Kent said with a laugh as they bypassed the hotel bar. He’d celebrated his Art Ross at the venue and managed a speech without slurring or stuttering, but in his younger days the party didn’t stop until the bar closed, and then a little after that. “You guys go on ahead.” He pointed the the bathrooms off to the side.
After washing his hands he splashed water over his face and along the back of his neck where he’d been sweating under the lights.
Stepping back into the lobby, he called for the elevator just as another group walked through the doors. He jammed the button, not wanting to share the ride with this rowdy bunch, and hopped in the still opening door before hammering the Door Close button.
“Hold door please!” A voice called out. Kent ignored it, watching the door slide almost shut. Then a set of large fingers poked in, and the elevator opened. Kent sighed.
“Digger it’s not just a flesh wound, your whole side is covered in blood, how did you even get back to my apartment with a wound like that??” Darcy grabs a towel and presses it against his wound
Digger grit his teeth and swayed on his feet. “Adrenaline…. Does a hell of a lot. Wearing off now….” His speech slurred and his eyes started to droop. “Dude had a bat with nails… Like a goddamn cartoon…”
Tonight I had to kick a drunk out, and it’s pretty common for me to do this at my store. I’m not the tallest person compared to my coworkers, but I’m one of the people would would fair off a little better in a fight if it came down to it. Naturally because of this I like to aid my mangers in kicking people out when it comes to that. Now it’s about 8 minutes before we go, and one of the regulars comes in drunker than normal. He’s hiccuping, stumbling around (can’t walk a straight line), and slurring his speech. All tale tell sings that this person is far past the legal limit for us to sell to them. I tell my manager “Hey this guy is really drunk.” He nodded, and as we watch him come up to the counter my manager is telling him “No, sorry, no more tonight, come back tomorrow.” After about 3 minutes of him and my manager going at where he would say “Well I’ll just get a six pack then,” and my manager telling him “No you come back tomorrow, I cannot do anything for you right now.” I step in and tell him “Hey let’s go talk about this outside man, come on” as I hold my hand open pointing towards the exit. At this point I have the guys attention on me and off of my manager, and he starts to talk with me about how he wants patron, and he wants a single beer. I keep telling him no sorry we can’t do that, and I physically escort him out the door. Granted this was a passive escort, but I never broke physical contact with him until I had him completely outside of the door. After he was out the door I thanked for my help by my manager, and we locked up shortly thereafter.
Reggie:-slurred speech- Baby, You answered, good. Look, I really love you.. so much. Are you home? I'm on my way home.. I think. I'm a little drunk.. well.. more then a little more like fucked. I can't stop thinking about you Lyd and I know I said that I'll give you space but.. fuck, I miss you. I just want you to be happy..
“I’m just saying,” Margo rambled, words coming faster and faster the more excited she got. “That in a world where witches exist, there has to be a very very powerful nerdy coven of them where instead of invoking water fire earth and air, they invoke every single element on the periodic table. And you had to light candles based on atomic number.” When the man continued looking blank she rolled her eyes, surprised with her obviously slurred speech that he was still serving her at all. It was her first time being drunk and she was a little awful at hiding it, but maybe her large vocabulary was on her side. “Fine, never mind. Another.”
headcanon 002: mike is from the deep, deep south ( and has lived there a good chunk of his life before moving to canada ). so’s the majority of his family —he does his best to stifle the accent but when he’s alarmed it tends to slip into his vocabulary ( ie. THAT SCARED THE BLUE OUTTA MY JEANS !). the worst is when he’s D R U N K — then it’s really hard to control, and more often than not his slurred speech is dripping in southern drawl. and no, he would really like you NOT to bring it up the next day.
Everyday the Flint, Michigan are put to the test. Their bodies are infected by high levels of Lead from their water. The high levels of lead can cause serious head damage, such as memory loss and slur of speech. Due to this, many of these children’s education are in serious jeopardy.
How much longer are we going to stand to the side and let this great injustice happen? Make a difference and donate.