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weareallnegan (weareallnegan) wrote,

The whine that Negan let out when she took the bucket from him was almost comical. Not fair. But, all the same, he'd let it go for now. He'd already had enough to make himself happy, anyway. Given he was on his third glass of Scotch now, too, he was more willing to let some things slide. He couldn't be bothered to cause a stir over ice cream. Besides, he cared more about the Scotch.

"Good, bad, whatever, this place makes my place look like a steaming shit pile." There was something in her tone that told him she wasn't exaggerating, though, even if he was convinced this was better. That seemed like a big problem best left for Future Negan to deal with. "Where I come from, most people would suck some mean dick to get stuck in a teleporting hotel on drugs." Most people he knew, anyway. He'd met some people recently who might have actually preferred being surrounded by dead skinbags with their loved ones than dragged into the unknown, like the unknown was really that much more terrifying.

"If you're trying to get me to piss my pants, it's not gonna happen, so you can stop. I'm happy here, and I don't need you giving me blue balls about it." There was something less humorous in his tone, now: he was serious. Even if this ended up being worse than where he was already, he wanted to enjoy it, at least for now. He'd only just gotten there. He picked up the glass he'd poured for her and held it up, raising an eyebrow. "I'm more than happy to talk, but I'm not talking ominous future shit with you. Either sit, have a drink, and tell me all about what cr-aaazy world you got plucked outta, or let me enjoy my free wifi in peace."