love me / spin the bottle

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      LITTLE PISTOL

UNDER THE SKIN, AGAINST THE SKULL, THEY PUT A LITTLE CHIP SO THAT THEY KNOW IT ALL. I THINK I MIGHT BE SCARED OF THE WORLD AND THE WAY IT MAKES YOU FEEL AFRAID, AND HOW IT GETS IN THE WAY.

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The Pitt, while the idea of it was rather fun (to him, at least), lacked quite a bit in fun things to do other than slap some poor fucks around from time to time. Half of the members had sticks up their asses; at this point, the only reason he stuck around was purely the heat and the fact that a lot of the guys here were more than somewhat attractive. It was unfortunate, though; he spent so much time simply laying in the sun that he never got the chance to flirt with that cute collie, or the big guy he took quite a liking too.

At that moment, as the crisp fall air filled his lungs, the large wolfdog found himself lying among a particularly large pile of empty beer bottles. "Fuuuck," he breathed, rolling to his side and stretching out his long limbs. Had he really drunken that much? Eugene barely felt buzzed; after growing some, he probably needed much more liquor to even think about getting drunk. Which sucked, because even with his large stash of it, he likely didn't have enough to last him more than a day or two. The male heaved out lightly and stood with only a slight wobble. He took in his mouth a full bottle and trodded into the main area of the camp.

As he slumped to the ground and promptly swallowed half the bottle in a single gulp, Eugene thought on what he could do to pass the time. Most games were a bore unless they involved kissing or fumbling around in a dark closet for seven minutes, and while that definitely would have been fun, there seemed to be a bit of a lack of closets in the fortress. Ah, but what there wasn't a lack of was bottles. Lantern-like eyes turned down to the one he held, and upon finishing the last drop, the slightly tipsy demon sat up and barked out,"Hey hey, spin the bottle, anyone?"