And nothing pleased my mother quite so much as having a daughter who aspired to greatness.”
Boom, right there, Sasha!!
Tex looked down at her boots. One of them had come unlaced. She bent down to tie it and wound up smacking her head against the table.
“Oww....” she moaned.
“There's a table there, Vortex,” he said, and for a brief instant she hated his guts. Then she saw his comically mussed-up hair, his unfocused gaze, and she wanted nothing more than to tease him. She picked up his hat and donned it; it was too big for her, and it hung on her head like a bucket.
“Look at me, everybody!” she said, blindly flailing about. “I'm Sheriff Neutron. I keep a cactus in my kitchen for some reason, and my dog has a metal leg.”
From beneath her chair, Goddard emitted a whine. Mr. Neutron only needed seconds to get in on the game. He snatched up her hat, brushed dirt from the brim, and placed it atop his own head.
“I have fleas,” he said.
“What? I do not!” she protested.
“So are you!”
The exchange required a lot of energy. Mr. Neutron slumped back against the booth, and Tex collapsed forward into the curve of her arm. The darkness she encountered there was pleasant.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “This feels nice. I'm glad I did this.”
He didn't reply, and she didn't sit up. Glasses clinked. Cutlery scraped. Piano keys fell through her mind as Libby played some sprightly chords. The world faded.
Especially loved this last part! REALLY got me cackling!! I imagine they were probably starting to hiccup, too! *hic!! hic!!*