Post by Troy & B&-y Meadows on Feb 1, 2012 12:37:59 GMT -5
This entire post will be Troy drunk aka he will speak with a cajiun accent. Best advice to read is say it out loud and what it sounds like most fits there is what he is trying to say.
The small Boston bar is nearly dead as we catch up with Troy. Brandy no where to be seen as he sits at the bar in a swivel type chair swinging back and forth slowly. A nearly empty glass before him as he slowly drags his finger around the lip of the glass causing it to hum slightly. HMMMMMMM The barkeep walking over to him as he holds a glass in one hand and a rag in the other using the rag to clean the glass. "Need another?" Troy raises his wrist to look at his watch. he lowers his hand back down to the bar and as he speaks his hidden accent flows out freely.
The barkeep looks at him knowing the Louisiana native is passed drunk at this point. "You better not be driving home." The barkeep warns as he sets a fresh bottle of Southern Comfort onto the bar before walking away. Not many knew about Troy's drinking problem as he only drank alone usually.
Troy grabs at the bottle pulling it towards him and opening it only to pour into the glass before him until it is full. He replaced the bottle back onto the counter before lifting the glass and bringing it to his lips slowly.
Troy tilts his head back quickly raising the glass and emptying it into his throat in one large gulp.
Troy places the glass onto the counter before pressing both hands onto the bar and using it as leverage to rise himself to his feet. using one hand on the bar to make sure he would not fall he began to walk slowly towards the back of the bar. He uses the wall to head down the small hallway in the back before pushing open the bathroom door. Once fully at the stall he unzips and pulls it out to begin making room for the new bottle of spirits.
He shakes off and flushes before putting it back into his pants and rezipping. As if by Voodoo he moves towards the door without leaning on anything and makes his way back to his seat. The Dirty Southern Brawler then pours himself another full glass and raises it again to his lips.
He raises the glass downing it again before placing it back onto the counter and lowering his head to the bar deep in thought.
TBC- Anyone who wants to jump in feel free.
The small Boston bar is nearly dead as we catch up with Troy. Brandy no where to be seen as he sits at the bar in a swivel type chair swinging back and forth slowly. A nearly empty glass before him as he slowly drags his finger around the lip of the glass causing it to hum slightly. HMMMMMMM The barkeep walking over to him as he holds a glass in one hand and a rag in the other using the rag to clean the glass. "Need another?" Troy raises his wrist to look at his watch. he lowers his hand back down to the bar and as he speaks his hidden accent flows out freely.
"JA Shure Mon Ami, I recun dat I can be takin' un' fer da road."
The barkeep looks at him knowing the Louisiana native is passed drunk at this point. "You better not be driving home." The barkeep warns as he sets a fresh bottle of Southern Comfort onto the bar before walking away. Not many knew about Troy's drinking problem as he only drank alone usually.
"Swo.... Boudreau, Ja making meh mad ova here Mon Ami."
Troy grabs at the bottle pulling it towards him and opening it only to pour into the glass before him until it is full. He replaced the bottle back onto the counter before lifting the glass and bringing it to his lips slowly.
"I dun kna where ja are boudreau but dis un's fer ja."
Troy tilts his head back quickly raising the glass and emptying it into his throat in one large gulp.
"Oh great da lass bottle wan'sa out."
Troy places the glass onto the counter before pressing both hands onto the bar and using it as leverage to rise himself to his feet. using one hand on the bar to make sure he would not fall he began to walk slowly towards the back of the bar. He uses the wall to head down the small hallway in the back before pushing open the bathroom door. Once fully at the stall he unzips and pulls it out to begin making room for the new bottle of spirits.
"Mah Modah unce told mah dat ya cun neva buy liquor only rent it. Smart wumun she wus."
He shakes off and flushes before putting it back into his pants and rezipping. As if by Voodoo he moves towards the door without leaning on anything and makes his way back to his seat. The Dirty Southern Brawler then pours himself another full glass and raises it again to his lips.
"Dis un's fer ja Duss'in 'n mayi'n lady luck treati'n ja loss well."
He raises the glass downing it again before placing it back onto the counter and lowering his head to the bar deep in thought.
TBC- Anyone who wants to jump in feel free.