(Archived) Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

A Brewtiful Beginning - Chapter 8

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

***

Two four-seater tables had been pushed together to accommodate the group, with Goth sat in between Palette and Zeke as the menus were passed around. Leaning over, the taller skeleton asked, "What are you getting?"

Goth looked down the menu, many of the names not looking familiar, "I... don't know, actually. I don't really drink much since I have a high tolerance. I have to drink a lot at once to actually get buzzed. My dad's the same way, it's pretty much water to him but he enjoys the taste. While I don't mind the taste, it's usually not worth the cost and the headache that comes after. Maybe-"

"Like water? You serious?" Zeke interrupted in disbelief, "I have to see this for myself, we're totally having a drinking contest."

Goth did a double-take, "Wait, what?"

"We're having a drinking contest," The man reiterated, "I'll pay for the drinks but loser pays for the food."

"That sounds fun, can I join?" Palette asked.

"What?" Goth's eye light shot over to his companion.

"I want to join too," Claire added on.

"We have four people so far, any other takers?" Zeke leaned over the table with a grin on his face.

"Nah, I want to watch this shitshow with my head on straight," Tamara laughed. Her comment was met with murmurs of agreement and nods from the rest of the group.

"Four people it is!" Zeke cheered, hailing the waitress over.

Goth clamped his mouth shut in resignation, beginning to remember the reason he usually didn't go out.

Palette leaned closer with a quirked socket, "You okay?"

The smaller feigned a smile, not wanting to put a damper on the night, "Yeah, I'm not used to being the center of attention is all. What about you? Are you going to be alright drinking so much?"

Palette's chest puffed out a bit as he stated, "Yup, I've done stuff like this, so I'll be okay!"

"If you say so...," Goth muttered, watching as the waitress walked away with the order.

---

"Shouldn't we stop now?" Goth inquired as he set down the empty glass of what was his fifth pint of beer. Claire had managed two full pints before she tapped out. Zeke was still trying to beat him but was clearly hitting his limit with his fourth beer.

Poor Palette had barely made it through his first pint before becoming giggly, his eye lights beginning to glaze over. Apparently whatever he had when he did 'stuff like this' before contained a much lower concentration of alcohol. Everyone else quickly agreed with Goth to make sure he only drank water for the rest of the night after he nearly fell out of his chair trying to cheer his coworkers on.

Zeke slammed down the glass and goaded the smaller, "What'sa matter, ya think I can' beat ya?"

Goth grimaced, "No, I just-"

"Another round den!" he shouted, receiving applause and encouragement from some of their coworkers.

"Go Goth, kick his ass!" Claire cheered wildly, punching her fist in the air while glaring at Zeke.

Tamara laughed, "Take it easy, you two'll get us thrown out if you both keep yelling."

Goth looked around the table, hoping someone would be the voice of reason. Unfortunately, everyone else was already either buzzed or drunk and couldn't care less. Some were even chanting now, clearly enjoying the spectacle.