The next morning Ransom and Holster walk into the kitchen for Lardo’s extra strong hangover coffee.
Whiskey is there picking up empty cups around the kitchen and Lardo herself is perched on the counter supervising the clean up effort.
The three seniors start rehashing the highs and lows from the kegster the night before.
“You should have seen the douche nozzle harassing Bits last night,” Holster spat angrily.
Lardo and Whiskey both arched an eyebrow perfectly in sync with each other – and ok, that was a little creepy – but Ransom continued with the tale.
“Yeah bro, Holtzy and I were about to break some legs but Jack came out of nowhere like some kind of Canadian superhero.”
“Captain Canada,” Holster snorts.
“Bro,” Ransom agrees, and holds his hand out for a fist bump.
Whiskey sends a long suffering glance over to Lardo and she just shrugs as if to say, “I’ve been dealing with this shit for four years bro,” and well… fair enough.
“But dude, Lards,” Holster says, “you should have seen it. Jack stormed in and was like ‘I’m his boyfriend leave him the fuck alone or we’ll both kick your ass.’”
“It was swawesome,” Rans adds, “Jack hung around with Bits for the rest of the night with an arm around his shoulders, casual as shit. He’s such a good bro. I think he even went upstairs with him at the end of the night to make sure he was ok.”
Both d-men brought a fist over their hearts in respect while emphasizing in unison, “such a good bro.”
Whiskey stared incredulously between his captains, then sent one final raised eyebrow over to Lardo before moving into the living room.
Lardo hops down from the counter and places her now empty mug in the sink.
“You two are idiots,” she says, and walks into the next room to continue supervising the tadpole.
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