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PARTY couldn't really pin down how he was feeling these days. This was unusual for somebody whose moods ranged between "boisterous" and "soulfully pensive." PARTY didn't particularly find himself upset very frequently- he didn't like being upset, and being moody just wasn't him.

So why was he wandering around the liquor store with a frown on his face?

Perhaps it had to do with his brother's upcoming nuptials. It was weird to him, Draft Punk getting married. After all, his sister was married. His dad was... in a vaguely monogamous not-marriage and hell, had kids with the mare who wasn't his mom- and now those kids were growing up. It wasn't that he was lonely, when he thought about it- it was that he felt... almost old. Older, anyways. He was seeing colts he ran wild with settling down, and maybe he was beginning to feel the years.

This was nothing that a handle of vodka couldn't fix. He needed to stock up anyways; he was hosting at least one bachelor party in the course of the next week. Moodily, he perused the shelves. What would get him drunk the quickest without tasting like paint thinner? His mind was only half on the liquor and his surroundings, so it wasn't a surprise when his cart accidentally collided with another phony. "Whoops! Sorry, ma'am!" he said, the collision jolting him out of his thoughts.

Normally he'd back down or ignore the angry pegasus, but he was in a weird mode. "The hell is your problem, lady?" he said, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "Sorry not good enough for you?" She was an angry-lookin' pegasus, to be sure, with the kind of tousled mane that either said "sex goddess" or "doesn't own a brush." Was that the look for mares these days? His own hair was extremely curly, but he'd always done his best to keep it sculpted, not tousled. Maybe that made him out of touch with reality, but he didn't really care. The beat of his own drum- the beat he provided- was really all that mattered to him.

That, and for some weird reason, this pegasus's rage. He found himself actually wondering what her problem was.

Normally he'd back down or ignore the angry pegasus, but he was in a weird mode. "Yeah, I know. I'm just havin' an off night. Sorry, miss!" He smiled widely, turning on the charm. If the makeup alone wasn't enough to turn heads, the performer's charisma tended to make other phonies warm to him.

"Looks like you're planning on a fun night," he said, smiling. Her cart was pretty full; certainly way more alcohol than one phony could drink. "Good luck with your party!" Was there a hint of wistfulness in his voice, some sort of loneliness, perhaps?

Maybe. Or maybe he was just looking forward to the sweet, sweet intoxication that was to come.

"Y-yeah," he said, laughing a little. Staff of Charisma? That sounded... Wait. s**t. Was... was she one of his dad's fangirls? TACO's wizard phase was well-known; hell, the single most magnificent panel van PARTY had ever seen had his father in a robe and wizard hat casting some weird sparkly song magic at a five-headed dragon while riding a tiger/eagle griffin.

If this was the case- if she was that kind of lady- well, then, this might go better than expected. And even if she wasn't, there was something about her he kind of found appealing. He wouldn't take her home to mother (he didn't take ANY mares home to mother), but he'd definitely take her home. She was the kind of mare who didn't put up with bullshit, and she knew how to party. That was enough. Yeah, sure, she was a stranger. Maybe she was a stranger with a big burly husband or brother at home, but you only live once. Time to take advantage of that single status and live on the edge a little. Rakishly, he winked. "Y'know, if you wanted to have a private party sometime, that might be fun. I've been known to be a real monster in my own time."

Damn, if he didn't like a take-charge lady! He'd have to put a star next to her name in his little black book, once he got it.

"Tell you what, we can hit up your party first, make a graceful exit, and then hoof it back over to my place." He'd changed his sheets the day before (from satin black to satin zebra), and the place was reasonably clean. "Unless, of course, you're in a hurry?" He raised an eyebrow at her, waggling it suggestively. "Though I can't let you be in enough of a hurry that this is completely anonymous. What's your name, pretty lady?"

PARTY had to chuckle a bit when he heard her name. "I dunno, girl- that might be the death of me. My name's PARTY. My parents had big dreams for me, I guess. Let's hit the checkout and then the road; I wanna see how fast we can run out of liquor." This was the best trip to the liquor store EVER.

Playfully, PARTY smacked the mare on the rump. "I think you'll find I'm worth keeping alive. I make the best damn scrambled eggs you've ever eaten." PARTY and Total Party Kill. Who would've thought?