Disclaimers and Notes: Same as before!
When You're Evil and Dead
Chapter 17: A Few Drinks Later
"You know what I really hate?" Kefka said, his voice wobbling despite having drunk a fairly small amount of alcohol.
"What's that?" Kuja said.
"Moogles?" Kuja blinked at him curiously. "I've never seen anything wrong with them."
"They're nasty little buggers," Kefka said, scowling for a moment.
"Got attacked by one, eh?" she grinned, taking another gulp of her drink.
"The ones on Gaia weren't that bad," Kuja said thoughtfully. "The 'kupo'-ing got annoying after awhile, but they weren't really the attacking kind."
"The moogles on my planet....danced," Kefka said, scrunching his nose up.
"Eeew, dancing moogles?"
"Yeah.... they were fun to hunt though," Kefka said with a smirk. He wiggled his fingers at her. "They can dance, but they can't run from an well-armed maniac."
Kefka giggled. "Almost as good as a barbecued chocobo, uwee hee!"
"Mmm, you know what goes really good on barbecued chocobo?"
"Honey mustard," Kuja said, nodding sharply. She hiccupped. "Yup."
"Hmm... you know what I'd like to do with some honey mustard?"
Kuja brought the glass to her lips again, casting a slightly suspicious glance at him. "What?"
Kefka leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She blushed.
"Uwee hee hee!"
"That's...disgusting! I think..." Kuja considered it again and shook her head. "Besides, you'd need a lot of honey mustard to do that."
"I know," Kefka said with a shrug. "But I still think it'd be fun to try."
"Sephiroth wouldn't let you," she said with a smirk. Kefka snorted and leaned on the counter.
"You like to bring him up, don't you?"
Kefka glared at the countertop. "Every time I'm having a good time hitting on you, you have to go and bring up that stupid sword toting jack-ass..."
"His name is Sephiroth," Kuja said, not noticing the flush on Kefka's cheeks. "And I happen to like his sword."
"What about me?" Kefka said, somewhere between snapping and whining.
"You don't carry a sword."
"I know that," Kefka grumbled.
Kuja looked faintly thoughtful. "Your name is Kefka."
"At least you know that much."
"And your mother's name was Rosalynn," she said, finishing her drink with a flourish. Kefka looked at her in mild surprise.
"How'd you know that?"
"She told me," Kuja said.
"The hell she did," Kefka laughed. "She didn't tell me what her name was until I was almost 19."
"Well... might've been a lucky guess."
"Sounds a bit more plausible..." Kefka sat up. He looked at Kuja, who seemed to be considering what her next drink order was going to be.
Kuja was only dimly aware of how close Kefka was leaning when he finally spoke.
"What would you do if I kissed you right now?" Kefka asked.
"Probably slug you," Kuja said, smirking faintly. "Why?"
He smiled. "Just wondering..."
After a moment it keyed in that Kefka's face was hovering only a few inches from hers. "Oh..."
A pause. Then:
"There you guysh are!" A familiar, intoxicated voice crowed behind them. Kuja blushed, turning away quickly. Kefka cringed and cursed, mostly under his breath. "I figured I'd find you two here."
"Hello, Sephiroth," Kuja said, motioning for the bartender.
"Hi there, Kuja." Sephiroth made a threatening motion toward the person sitting at the next stool. They quickly fled, and Sephiroth took the seat.
"I suddenly feel ill," Kefka muttered, leaning on the counter again.
"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.
"Another Bloody Moogle," Kuja said, nudging her glass across the countertop.
"Shumthing blue and with a little umbrella," Sephiroth said with a hiccup.
"Something to put me out of my misery," Kefka sighed. The bartender nodded and departed.
"You already look like you've had a bit to drink," Kuja said, watching as Sephiroth swayed a bit. He used his sword for support.
"A little bit," he nodded in agreement. "The alcohol'sh better in heaven."
"So you visited your mommy?" Kefka asked with a faint sneer.
"Nope, never got that far."
"We visited my...uh...bitchy ancestor," Kuja said. "And then we visited Keffy's mom."
"That explains how you ended up here," Sephiroth said. "Meow x17 shaid you went to visit shumone."
The bartender returned with their drinks. "Here you all go. A Bloody Moogle, a blue drink with an umbrella, and a Figaro Shotgun-in-the-Mouth special."
Kefka looked at the glass of dark green liquid curiously. Then, with a slight shrug he downed the entire contents of the glass. With a faint convulsion he asked: "What the fuck was in that?"
"Something in an unmarked bottle, a little bit of vodka, a little bit of rum, some tequila, a little more vodka, a pinch of garlic, some blue food coloring, and some liquid drain cleaner."
Kefka gagged, leaning against the counter. "Then I suppose it's better that I'm already deeeead..."
Sephiroth hiccupped as he twirled the drink umbrella between his fingers. "Idiot."
"Poor Keffy," Kuja sighed, taking a sip of her Bloody Moogle.
Kefka turned and looked at Kuja blearily. Then he looked at Sephiroth. "Mm, the spotsss aren't big enough to coveerrr him..." He turned back to the bartender. "Can I have another ooonne? With a bit more garlic this tiiime..."
"Maybe you shouldn't," Kuja said, watching as Kefka clutched the counter for dear life. (Or death....whichever.)
"I'm fiiiine." He convulsed again, his left eye ticking repeatedly.
"Sho much for not drinking," Sephiroth snickered.
"I'll drink if I damn welllll want to," Kefka said. The bartender returned with another drink. "Frank you."
"Let him drink," Sephiroth said. Kuja sighed. The bishounen took a sip of his drink. "Thish ish good blue shtuff."
Kefka took a gulp of the green liquid and shuddered. "Frigging fish."
"I shaw your little brother when I wassh up there," Sephiroth said to Kuja. "He'sh a chipper little bugger."
"You were drinking with him, weren't you."
"Uh huh," he nodded.
"Murgle..." Kefka took another gulp of his drink.
"Oh, that reminds me..." Sephiroth leaned back, feeling around in the pockets of his coat. "Zidane gave me shumthing to give you."
"Really?" Kuja perked a bit. "That's...odd."
"He told me not to read it, sho I didn't," Sephiroth said, fishing a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "There you go."
"Thank you." Kuja unflolded the piece of paper and read it.
"Zidane has funny handwriting," Sephiroth said, leaning so he could see the note's contents. "It'sh all blurry."
She laughed and swatted him away. "That's because yer drunk, you snoop."
"That'sh a pretty good reashun," the silver haired man hiccupped. "What'sh it shay?"
"None of yer drunken business," Kuja said with a smirk.
"Darn." Sephiroth watched as Kuja tucked the note under her skirt. "You know, I could have done that for you."
"Always looking for a free excuse to grope, aren't you?"
"I didn't know I had to pay," Sephiroth said with a grin.
"I'm thinking about starting to charge you guys a toll," Kuja giggled. She turned slightly. "How about that, Keffy?"
Kefka had finished most of the contents of the glass. A small glimmer of green had dribbled onto his chin, and he was staring vacantly at a spot on the counter. Kuja snickered.
"I think you've had enough..." She reached over and wiped the green spot from his chin. After a moment of curious consideration, she licked the green substance from her finger. "Blaggh! How the hell can you drink that, Kefka?"
"Verrry carefully," Kefka whispered, blinking slowly.
"At leasht you don't have to worry about any brain damage," Sephiroth snickered into his glass. Kuja giggled again and patted Kefka on the shoulder.
"Poor widdle Keffy, do you think you're gonna be able to walk back to the room?"
"Not voluntarily," Kefka said with a faint wheeze.
"I could beat shum senssse back into him," Sephiroth offered.
"You're just as drunk as he is," Kuja said with a laugh.
"I can walk, 'cuz I have a shword!" he hiccupped. "Beshides, I can shtill kick hish ash..."
"You wiiiish," Kefka said, sneering at Sephiroth again.
"Now boys, behave," Kuja laughed.
"My feet feel kinda nummmb," Kefka muttered, looking down.
"Maybe your shoesh are too tight," Sephiroth snickered.
"I'm wearing shoes?" he looked mildly surprised. "Wow."
"I could cut yer feet off..." Sephiroth said, wobbling the sword a bit.
"I neeeeed my feet!" Kefka snapped.
"Umm..." he looked at Kuja. "What do I need my feet for?"
"To keep your shoes on," she said with a shrug.
"Yeah! To keep my shoes on," Kefka nodded in agreement.
"I shtill might cut them off..." Sephiroth muttered. He finished his drink and burped daintily.
"Maybe you two should take a break before you try walking back," Kuja suggested.
"We can walk baaack just fine," Kefka said.
"You just told me you couldn't feel your feet."
"I don't need my feet to walk back!"
She blinked. "You don't?"
"No!" Kefka hiccupped. "I can float."
"Well, don't bump into anything that might try to eat your soul," Kuja said, patting him on the shoulder again before pushing her chair back.
"Where're you going?" Sephiroth said, picking his head up off the counter.
"Don't worry, I'll meet you two back at our table," she said with a smile. Kuja hopped off her stool, pausing for a moment while she regained her balance.
"Thish ish your fault," Sephiroth hissed at Kefka once Kuja had departed.
"My fault? I don't thiiiink so!"
"I'm gonna kick yer ash," the bishounen fumbled on the grip of his sword. Kefka laughed mockingly.
"Oh yeah?" he said, fluffing himself up a bit. "Bring it on, sword-boy!"
"Ash shoon ash I figgure out where that chirping noish ish coming from..."
end chapter 17