He sighed. “Well, maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but I think we can all agree that it was a good show.”
My hand tightened on the wooden mug. It cracked audibly.
“Yikes,” Gary said. “Definitely mad.”
“If I were a unicorn,” I told him, “there would be glitter pouring off me right now.”
“Unicorn rage,” he whispered, eyes wide.
“So much unicorn rage. Like, the ragiest unicorn rage ever.”
“Is that why you are getting drunk by yourself and glaring at the wall?”
“I am not getting drunk by myself and glaring—oh. Wait. I am. Yes. That is why.”
“Oh.” He put his nose against my ear and snuffled loudly. I grimaced. “I love you,” he said, his lips rubbing against my jaw.
“Gross. Stop it.”
“Can’t. Love you. Love you, boo. Love you so much. You my girl. Bitches before snitches.”
“Except you snitched to Zal the Magnificent.”
“I paid him for a performance piece. There’s a big difference.”
“You’re going to need stitches by the time I’m done with you.”
He snorted in my ear. “You’re adorable when you threaten me. Seriously.”
I snarled at him.
“Oops. I meant, oh no! Please, Sam! Don’t cut me! I’m so frightened. You’re sooo scary!”
“Damn right,” I said, knocking back more ale. Like a man.
“It was a pretty good song, though,” Gary said. He just couldn’t help himself.
“I’m going to invent a spell for penis rot and give it to you and you’re going to be all like, no, why did I do this to Sam? Why was I so mean? I should have been nicer and now my penis looks like an old-growth forest.”
“That was… descriptive.” He snuffled my face again.
“Go away.”
“And leave you to pout all by yourself? Never.”
“Don’t be a cunt, Gary.” I winced. “Okay, time out from the fighting. Can we all agree never to use that word? It’s awful and disrespectful and I don’t even know why I said it. I apologize profusely and beg your forgiveness.”
“Agreed,” Gary said. “I’ll speak for Tiggy, who is currently trying to get Knight Delicious Face to dance. And of course I forgive you.”
“Good. Rule four hundred ninety-eight of the Sam/Gary/Tiggy friendship is now in effect. No one can say… that word. Time in.” I huffed out an angry breath and looked back down at the bar. “Go the fuck away, Gary. You’re dead to me.”
“Whiny little git,” he mumbled, but he didn’t move. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything? We’re friends, Sam.”
“Not right now we’re not.”
“Shut up. I’m being serious right now.”
“Oh, as long as you’re serious.”