A quick swap me thinks....

>"Besides, you can tell Tara what happanded to her husband..."
>
>"WHAT!!!!"
>
<On the drag to Parrotts>
"Actually Keto, that suits me fine."
"What?"
"Well, this way, I tell Tara her husband is a farting machine, whilst you
get to tell Alota that you were aiding my navigation when we hit the BD."
"Ah."
"Ah indeed." said Dean, smugly, whacking his hand against the doorpad at
Parrotts. As they propped Phil up on a barstool, Keto said. "You know, I've
not talked to Tara in a LONG while, maybe's a good time to rectify that
lapse." said Keto, slowly.
"Right," said Dean, from behind the bar, (which was, oddly deserted) as he
started placing bottles of cheap vodka and beer on the bar (whilst,
simultaenously, removing the peanuts). "So, to clarify, You tell Tara your
ointment made her husband into a one-man farting frenzy, and I tell Alota
that I, with you navigating, hit the BD?"
"Well, yes." said Keto, starting to pour the bottles down the still
unconscious Phil's throat, "but I'd be grateful if you could emphasise the
'you driving' part, and diminished the 'me navigating' part."
"Depends," mused Dean, holding Phil's mouth open, "any chance of unlimited
access to Cerebrum's still?"
They lapped into silence, part from Phil's gentle gurgling and farting.
"Alright." Keto said, eventually.
"Brutal!" said Dean, just before Phil vomited in his face.
"Hey, where's MP?" said Keto, suddenly.
Dean was too busy trying to wipe Phil's vomit from his face to reply...
Dean "Vomitorium" Thomas
<OOC: Well, got myself out of one unpleasant duty, but got another one and a
faceful of vomit in exchange, hmm....>
Madness Takes Its Toll, Please have Exact Change
_________________________________________________________________
Send and receive Hotmail on your mobile device: http://mobile.msn.com