Bjorn: *yawns boredly**not doing anything in particular*

Meth: -walks in, looking rather cheerful-

Bjorn: *spots Meth* Heya. *waves* You look happy today.

Meth: I am. -grins- Hello. How're you?

Bjorn: *shrugs* M'bored, that's about it.

Meth: Eh...I'm pretty bored m'self. Lets do something.

Bjorn: Do you have anything in mind? And care to share what's made you so cheery?

Meth: No, not really...and I'm not sure. -spaces out as he tries to remember-

Bjorn: Not sure? Alright then... *watches him space out*

Meth: -blinks, snapping back to reality- Wait, what were we talking about?

Bjorn: What to do and what it was that put you in a good mood, I think.

Meth: Oh, I can't remember. -shrugs- Oh well. :/

Bjorn: Are you high? That would answer both why you're in a good mood and why you can't remember.

Meth: No! Definitely- Wait...maybe.

Bjorn: *chuckles* Quick, do you remember being in a funny smelling room, laughing at nothing?

Meth: -thinks, but spaces out again-

Bjorn: *waves a hand in front of Meth's face*

Meth: -grabs Bjorn's hand and examines it closely-

Bjorn: Do I have a long lifeline? *referring to palm reading*

Meth: I don't know...but for a minute there I thought you had like...six fingers.

Bjorn: *snorts**said snort turns into a laugh* I'm pretty sure I'm not inbred?

Meth: Inbred, no... -lets go of his hand- Man...I wish I had six fingers.

Bjorn: *blinks* Why?

Meth: 'Cause, like...you could do so much with it!

Bjorn: But what if it didn't work? Like, the knuckles were all crowded and your hand was like... hard to move?

Meth: That'd be gross...but if it did work, I think it'd be amazing.

Bjorn: *grins* Imagine it, six Bugles on one hand!

Meth: -blinks- I'm hungry.

Bjorn: Further evidence you might be high.

Meth: But I'm noooot.

Bjorn: What do you want to eat?

Meth: Anything...

Bjorn: Wanna go try to find something to eat then?

Meth: Yes. -sticks out his hand- Lead the way. -obviously not fit to lead someone-

Bjorn: *rolls his eyes and takes him by the hand* I think we might have some sort of food at the Ditch...

Meth: -cackles- Ditch...rhymes with b***h.

Bjorn: Yes, yes it does. Coincidentally, our ditch is owned by one.

Meth: Ohh...my land lady is a b***h to. But she makes nice cakes.

Bjorn: *leads him around, likely a long ways away from whereever it was they were*

Meth: -hums a stupid song while being led along-

Bjorn: *looks back at him* What're you humming?

Bjorn: Oh. *stops suddenly*We're here. *has led them to a grassy ledge, with about a six foot ditch stretching for a long ways, with no one in sight*

Meth: -blinks, staring into the ditch- Huh.

Bjorn: Here, this way. *leads him to a sloped part that acts as stairs and walks down into the dirt*

Meth: -follows him down, looking around- This is...interesting.

Bjorn: *leds them to a random wooden door in the side of the ditch, which is at an angle**bored/annoyedly* At this point I'm required to inform you that the human is in no way responsible for any harm, physical, mental, or emotional, that may occur to you inside of The Ditch. *may or may not be joking*

Meth: -nods- Okay...

Bjorn: *opens the door to a stairwell that leads down* It's not Hell, I swear. If it was, we would be profiting off it somehow.

Meth: Right. -follows him, still looking around-

Bjorn: *the stairwell has those support beam deals so it doesn't cave in, and ends in what appears to be a rather normal looking living room*

Meth: -looks a bit surprised at the interior- Hm.

Bjorn: *sounds a little surprised* It's pretty empty in here. *shrugs* Kitchen's this way. *points and walks through a door into a cramped little kitchen and nearly hits his head on a cabinet* Help yourself to anything in the cupboards or fridge.

Meth: -stares at Bjorn- Anything...?

Bjorn: Well, anything edible? I wouldn't recommend the cardboard boxes. *trying to make a joke*

Meth: Oooh... -drools and pretty much begins to raid the cabinets and fridge, grabbing anything that sounds apitizing-

Bjorn: *watches with some amusement* Don't make yourself sick, now.

Meth: -shoves a handful of chips in his mouth- Oh, I won' ged shick. I hash skillsh. -swallows-

Bjorn: Mmhmm, well there should be a bucket somewhere in case your skills fail you.

Meth: Good. -starts to shove whatever he's gathered in his pie hole-

Bjorn: ...When was the last time you ate? *sounds a little concerned*

Meth: Oh...like, a few hours ago. -pats his stomach- I know, I eat a lot. I'm not this fat for no reason.

Bjorn: *chuckles* That's okay... *is seriously beginning to wonder where the rest of the Namrah who live here went*

Meth: So- -talks in between shoveling, chewing and swallowing intervals- Play any instruments? -random-

Bjorn: I'm sure I could if I tried, but that's really more of Bo's thing... I wish we had a keyboard... With really narrow keys.

Meth: Narrow keys?

Bjorn: So only I could play it, not Bo or Frey or my sisters... Except Kristen, but I don't know if she'd even care. It's really selfish.

Meth: Oh...I don't think it's selfish.

Bjorn: It is, really, I think, but maybe I feel that and you don't 'cause it's not you who wants it.

Meth: -shrugs- Maybe. But...everyone is entitled to have the one special thing they don't want anyone else to touch. So it isn't selfish at all, really. It's just in our nature.

Bjorn: Hmm. *sighs* Can we change the subject?

Meth: -blinks- Oh...yeah...sorry. -noms on some cookies-

Bjorn: *takes one of said cookies and nibbles on it* Anything exciting happening with you lately?

Meth: Not really... -shrugs-

Bjorn: The only real notable thing here is we've gained another anthro... She's... interesting.

Meth: Oh...really? I guess that's cool. -shrugs-

Bjorn: She hit on me and was pretty disappointed I was gay. I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment...

Meth: Oh...someone hit on me on St.Patricks day...Ithink.

Bjorn: Really? Do you remember who, or is it all a green blur?

Meth: I think she was in green. -shrugs-

Bjorn: *sarcastically* Well that narrows it down.

Meth: D: Well, I was drunk all day, so I don't know.

Bjorn: Wasn't I supposed to help you dial down the drinking? I guess I've kind of failed there...

Meth: -shrugs- Lots of people have failed... -stares at his food-

Bjorn: I'll keep trying, if you want.

Meth: -blinks- If you want, then go ahead.

Bjorn: *pauses and sighs* God I suck at this. I'm sorry.

Meth: -starts to put back food- You don't suck at it at all.

Bjorn: * helps him with putting said food away* Have you always drank a lot?

Meth: I've drank since I was a teenager, but... -thinks- It definitely picked up after my wife and I started having problems... -shrugs-

Bjorn: Ah, I remember you telling me about that... You... had lost a child, correct?

Meth: -taps his finger on the counter- Two.

Bjorn: Right... *curious to know more but doesn't want to press* That would certainly start someone drinking if they hadn't already.

Meth: -nods- And then I started cheating on her. -says it like it's nothing-

Bjorn: *reacts like it's nothing* How did she react to that?

Meth: She didn't like it. So she kicked me out, and I shacked up with the guy was cheating on her with...and after I was officially divorced, we had a nice life together.

Bjorn: Well I'm glad you weren't homeless.

Meth: -nods- I guess I kept good company, even though my wife didn't think so.

Bjorn: You kept company with the man you cheated on her with, of course she wouldn't think so. Who was he?

Meth: I met him through another friend... -shrugs- I still live with him here, but, we aren't together or anything.

Bjorn: Anything in particular split you up?

Meth: -thinks- I can't remember if we had a fight or what...but we did... -shrugs- But it's okay, right? We're still friends so, it's not like we hate each other.

Bjorn: Yeah, that is good I suppose. Do you want to go somewhere a little less cramped? *idly looking around at the kitchen*

Meth: -blinks- Sure.

Bjorn: *shuffles the both of them out of the "cosy" kitchen* We can hang out here or go back outside, if you want.

Meth: -shrugs- We can do whatever you want.

Bjorn: *shuffles the both of them out of the "cosy" kitchen* We can hang out here or go back outside, if you want.

Meth: -shrugs- We can do whatever you want.

Bjorn: I'm afraid I'm in the shallow end of the idea pool at the moment.

Meth: We could just hang out here?

Bjorn: *shrugs* Fine by me. *motions to a couch* Take a seat, if you want.

Meth: -flops down-

Bjorn: *sits down beside him* Not a very good host, am I?

Meth: You're a lovely host.

Bjorn: *cheekily* Yes, but looks don't count for everything.

Meth: -smirks, sighs, and then randomly flops on Bjorn, his head in his lap-

Bjorn: *pats his head* I fed you so you're content, is that how it works, then?

Meth: -shrugs- Something like that.

Bjorn: *quietly, almost to himself but clearly for Meth to hear and be confused about* Oh no, not the lake of fire...! *snickers a little to himself*

Meth: -blinks- Lake of fire...?

Bjorn: My human kept saying it today, she showed me a clip of a documentary. There was a funeral, and some protesters were there. One of the protesters said something about a lake of fire, and the some guy from the funeral was all like, "Oh no, not the lake of fire!" really sarcastically. The protester dude was a douche so it was pretty funny.

Meth: Ooh... -tries to look less confused as he really is as his top hat rolls off-

Bjorn: I suppose it was funnier if you were there. *catches his tophat and puts it on his own head* How to I look?

Meth: Maybe. -shrugs and looks up at Bjorn, grinning- You look wonderful.

Bjorn: *smirks* Thanks. *leans down and kisses him gingerly before pulling away*

Meth: -smirks, returning the kiss before Bjorn pulls away-

Bjorn: Your hat made me do that, you know. Have you rigged it with some sort of mind control?

Meth: I am not going to answer that question!

Bjorn: *trying not to laugh* It's true, isn't it?!

Meth: ... -pauses for a while- No.

Bjorn: *frowns* Oh. Well that's no fun. *puts the top hat on top of Meth's face*

Meth: -flails a little- I can't see! -'accidentally' gropes Bjorn- Ooops.

Bjorn: *cheeks turn red**doesn't believe for a second that was an accident**picks up the hat again and holds it over the both of them* Better now?

Meth: -smirks as he see's Bjorn's cheeks- Much better.

Bjorn: *scowls slightly* You did that on purpose. *not actually mad*

Meth: -frowns- It was an accident! How am I supposed to grope you, with that amount of enthusiasm and vigor, when I can't see?

Bjorn: Good memory? Practice?

Meth: -blinks- Maybe. -frowns- Damn. -is now just confused-

Bjorn: *is also confused*...*random* If peanut butter cookies are made out of peanut butter, what are Girl Scout cookies made of?

Meth: -thinks- Pubes.

Bjorn: *snorts* You think?

Meth: Yeah...they can't grind up the actual girl scouts, because people would notice the bone chunks and natural meaty taste, but, who's going to notice a few pubes? That way, they can stay true to their name and still sell.

Bjorn: You think those Girl Scouts are old enough to have pubes?

Meth: Well, this is where it get's tricky. Older girls can't sell cookies efficiently. Especially if they're awkward and going through puberty. It's either sex, or cute little children! And the girl scouts don't want to damage their innocent name, so they go for cute little girls, and when they hit puberty, they take their pubes and send them to a meat factory.

Bjorn: I'll have to keep an eye out for Girl Scout Glue and Girl Scout tallow soap, then.

Meth: Yup, you should. -sighs- But god damn, they do an excellent job while they last. It's only American that they do. Otherwise they'd be deported back to like...Yugoslavia or something.

Bjorn: Yugoslavian roaming gangs of reject Girl Scouts, sewing bark to live wolves and using them as vests.

Meth: Tsk. It's sad.

Bjorn: Makes for good documentaries, though.

Meth: Oh, yeah, definitely. -yawns and stretches out, getting comfy in Bjorn's lap-

Bjorn: *has set the hat aside**runs his fingers through Meth's hair*

Meth: -relaxes and actually purrs slightly- At this rate I'm going to fall asleep right here.

Bjorn: That's alright, I'm okay with being a pillow.

Meth: -blinks- Well...maybe I should go?

Bjorn: You don't have to, but I won't keep you here.

Meth: If you want me to, I'll stay. -smiles-

Bjorn: Stay, then.

Meth: Okay. -snuggles Bjorn-