Killing Time

(So we've got Hexx trading words with Valero. A guy who's not even sure who he is. So we've got Kristin Kross being worthless as per usual. Rather than determining her own future, and training to be a real warrior, she's decided to let Valero lead her around by the pigtails. Yeah, that's gonna work out well. So we've got Blonde Ambition taking their time on making their decision as to whether or not to join me. They'll figure it out. The only constant in all of this is I could care less. None of it is giving me what I want. What I need. So yet another day I sit here in idle. The mediocrity of daily life staring me in the face. Every fiber of my being itches. Yearning for stimulation that I have to wait for yet again. I grab my bottle of Popov Vodka and twist the cap off with one smooth motion of my thumb. This is my favorite booze these days. Nothing like cheap vodka that burns on the way down. Nothing like cheap vodka that smells like paint thinner and tastes like lighter fluid. I would put it in the flask that Vivian gave me a Christmas or two ago, but that would just waste time getting it into my system.

I take a few large gulps and feel my insides warm from the alcohol's touch. It's not the fire I feel inside from battle, but it's as close a second as I can manage. Grabbing a generic menthol from my pack, I light up and try to cope with the dullness of it all. Nothing tastes good. Nothing is enjoyable. It's all trivial. Only one thing makes me feel alive and it's awhile away. It's at this point Vivian comes walking in the door. She's dressed for business as per usual, except for the fact she never ties her hair up anymore. She hasn't in almost 2 years. She covers her missing ear at all times. She's more scarred inside from it than out. I exhale smoke in her direction as a way of greeting her. That's about as much enthusiasm as I can muster for such things today. She looks at the dirty, white tank-top and black panties I wear and shakes her head. Great. Now she's gonna wanna talk.)

Vivian Tate: I see you barely managed to put some clothes on today. What's the special occasion? Didn't want to be informal and felt you needed to dress up to drink today?

(Just shut up. Can't a person just drink alone without being bothered? Yeah, I'm in a terrific mood today. I put my cigarette out directly on her kitchen table. Immediately a frown forms on her face. Suddenly I feel a little better. What can I say, I love brightening people's day.)

Summer Ashton: No, I felt like greeting you after your hard day of being vice president of pencil sharpening at that stupid job of yours.

(She brushes my feet off the table, forcing me to almost have to sit up. At least she's smart enough not to touch any of the six bottles of booze on the table. All the food groups are accounted for: vodka, rum, whiskey, and tequila. So far I've just had the two bottles of vodka and am working on the third. I'm nothing if not thorough.)

Vivian Tate: How thoughtful of you. So let me guess, another hard day of waking up after noon and drinking all day for you?

(I snort at her. This is the pain of having a friend. They always wanna talk or try to help "better" you in some way. Is it this way for everyone who has friends? Why bother then?)

Summer Ashton: I never drink all day. Sides, I worked out already. See the wall?

(She looks over to find a bunch of holes in the wall. Her turn to be extremely annoyed. Now she knows how I feel on a constant basis. It's true, I don't drink 24 hours a day. I gotta sleep sometime. Course if she'd shut up I could get back to drinking alone all day in peace.)

Vivian Tate: Damnit Summer! Can't we ever have an apartment you don't trash?

Summer Ashton: Nope.

(Pretty nice of me to be straight forward about it. I grab my bottle and force half of its contents down my throat before setting it down with a deep gasp. So much better.)

Summer Ashton: Besides, it adds charm. I should be a decorator.

(Yeah that's going over well. I can already see she's about to lose her little pedestrian mind.)

Vivian Tate: Are you ever going to grow up or are you going to continue to be a piece of sh*t whenever you're not in a fight?

Summer Ashton: Piece of sh*t. Why, what are you, my mom?

(She goes to say something else, but I cut her off. I've had my fill. Not enough vodka in the world for me to want to continue this conversation. I let her know with my tone of voice to drop it.)

Summer Ashton: Shut it b**ch.

(Okay, maybe with my words too. Whatever.)

Summer Ashton: By the way, you smell like an office. It's repulsive. You should go take a shower.

Vivian Tate: How is that worse than smelling like booze, cigarettes, sweat, and dirty clothes?

Summer Ashton: It just is. You want a drink?

(I slide the whiskey down towards her. She's found a greater appreciation for whiskey since losing the ear. Reluctantly she pours herself a glass. Glasses are a waste of time, but that's her style. She takes a little sip before kicking off her heels. With a loud exhale, she loses the stick that was in her *ss. Bout time.)

Vivian Tate: Did you call Hexx or Widow back yet?

(I shake my head. I've been too busy...drinkin. Besides I can't tolerate people for extended periods of time. Usually about a minute is my limit. Small doses are the key. Even for people I'm working with. I'll call them back eventually. They were just touching base according to the messages. I don't care about unity. We've all got our own agendas. As long as they do their jobs when the violence comes I'm a happy camper. That's why Widow and I make a good tag team. We're on the same page.)

Vivian Tate: Did you hear back from Blonde Ambition?

Summer Ashton: Nope. They'll let me know one way or another at some point.

(Viv gives me an odd look. This is more patience than she's used to me having. I'm just really not concerned. Besides, if they don't answer verbally I have a feeling they'll attack me at some point to let me know the answer is no. I just look forward to that kind of stuff. If they actually give me a verbal answer, it'd mean it's a yes. I'd be surprised if that were the case. I don't think they know what is good for them. Yet they thought they knew what was wise for me. Cute aint it?)

Vivian Tate: Alright, I'm gonna get out of these clothes. What do you want for dinner?

(Other than the booze I'm generously pouring in my mouth she means.)

Summer Ashton: Flesh...rare.

Vivian Tate: Steak it is.