ARReSTeD DeVeLOPMeNT - 𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

07 || dill- i mean bowl- dull- i mean bull- i mean-

Lucille had decided on a whim to go look for Annyong's old boxes at the model home. She quickly packed the essentials: her money, her purse, two hip flasks, a smaller purse-sized flask – with all these flasks, she might as well have bought a multipurpose holster to strap them all to – a bottle of wine for the trip back—

"You're not driving," George Senior decided. Lucille narrowed her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you're an alcoholic," he replied, taking her keys off the drawers by the door before she could. Lucille only laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Really, George, I prefer the term alcoholist. I'm a professional. It's what I do. Hell, it could be an art form if I only declared it," she contradicted. "And there certainly isn't a rule that you can't do art and drive, is there?"

"I don't know," George Senior replied as they headed out the door. "I'm pretty sure you'd get pulled over if a cop saw you remaking The Mona Lisa on a four square-foot canvas instead of steering."

"But it's not a rule," Lucille restated, waltzing to the elevator in the style that only an alcoholist would. "I've never heard of it."

A life lesson from Lucille Bluth: if you haven't heard of it (or seen it moping over an enemy in your living room) it doesn't exist. This is why it took her so long to believe in homosexuals. They were like leprechauns to her. Not real.

"Alright, fine," George Senior replied. "But you're still not driving. I don't want to die today."

"And I don't want to live," Lucille replied.

They shared a quiet glance then, both of them internally agreeing and then externally bursting out with a fit of laughter. The elevator doors closed, luckily keeping all the noise inside of it so everyone else living in the godforsaken apartment building could exist without fearing the confirmed existence of The Joker.

They descended to the garage.

"But really, though," George Senior breathed after he'd gotten himself under control again, "you're not driving."

"Well, what are we gonna do, then?" Lucille asked, tipping her head. "You can't drive. Your legal record forbids it."

George Senior, suddenly remembering that he was living in a time after having committed multiple felonies, nodded in confirmation.

"Well."

He took a breath.

"I mean... shit."

Lucille... "drove".

-

Lindsay was making her way to the Sudden Valley home on her own. She had been walking for the past hour or so, and was so concentrated on doing it that she didn't even notice the Bluth family Stair Car as it flew past her in the opposite direction. Nothing could break her determined glare as she narrowed in on the line of houses in the distance. She had just half a mile to go. In fact, she could see Michael's house in just enough detail to know that she was making progress.