After many of the people had hitched a ride on a passing snake (...I ...don't know), those that were unable or unwilling to get a ride looked around at each other in the Special Collections room
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"I'm sure she's fine," Methos soothes. He tosses the whisky down to him. "You might want to mix it with some water... 'course, there's none of that about."
"Heh." Rob takes a hit directly from the bottle. His throat burns, but not ***SCHMOOP ALERT*** like the flames of his adrenaline-soaked heart, flaming for the mystery and enigma known only as Parker. Yes, she would be all right, and he would go to her and they would find a kind of peace you only hear about in pop songs...
"I, um, don't drink. But, uh, I'll definitely pretend to get drunk or something. And, uh, don't eat my cufflinks, which I understand that sounds like a totally weird thing, but um, yeah. Don't."
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What will get the taste of zombie out the fastest?
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*blinks*
So that's why the pirate does it...
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*Eyes bottles. Eyes zombie water.*
But then, the parents aren't here.
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Zombies, bad.
*checks self*
Okay. Tired. Who's got first watch?
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