Funny Drink Names

February 22, 2017:

Betsy, Rogue, Meggan go to a Manhattan pub for drinks.

Pete's Tavern - Manhattan

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

"Of course," Betsy says, lifting a brow at Rogue again. "Don't think Storm and Scott are the /only/ optiosn around here. I'm a firm believer in cathartic exercise. And sometimes, that calls for shots of Grey Goose."

Betsy helps Meggan pick out an outfit that'll fit her, though she has to 'borrow' a few things from Jean Grey, who actually has some curves compared to Betsy's trim frame. A pair of heels with a low but stylish lift are also obtained for the blonde shapeshifter. Almost magically, Betsy disappears into her room for all of two minutes and when she emerges, she's in a skirt, thigh high socks, and a pair of stylishly heeled low boots, and the casual toss of her hair is combed, crimped, and styled with ease.

"Shall we?" True to her word, an hour later the three of them are at a cocktail lounge in Manhattan, and Betsy flings a platinum credit card down for the first round. "Grey goose on the rocks, double, twist of lime," she requests of the waiter, as she settles into one of the bar-height chairs around their small table.


"I didn't learn to read til I was full grown, so I am not going to insist you go the library," laugh's Meggan. The blonde owns some clothes she has bought recently. She'll follow all of Betsy's advice on what to wear thouh, after all she is the model. She even manages to hold back protesting on the shoes… mostly. SHe really doesn't like those things. "I'm more then eager!" The pointy eared blonde bouncing xcitedly as they hurry for the car. "Still weird to see all the car's backwards." When they arrive at the bar she just says, "Um… whatever she odered," copyin Bety's drink.


Rogue hadn't gone to change clothes. She'd just gone out ot the garage to her classic Dodge Charger and sat in the driver's seat smoking a cigarette and listening to music while the others changed. She wasn't really shopping around for a man tonight, so a hoodie and blue jeans wasn't that embarrassing for her to be seen in.

By the time the two of them made it to her car she'd finished the cigarette though as she didn't like smoking while people were in the car (that was just rude!). The drive into NYC had been filled with classic rock ballads piping out of her vehicle's speakers.

Once in the bar, the Southern Belle did fuss with her hair a bit in the mirror but it was just unkempt and like a woman right out of the Savage Lands anyway. Once the other two had ordered, Rogue grinned at Betsy buying and she flashed a smile at the woman. "Nice."

Rogue walked up to the bar then, placed her gloved hands on the counter and looked at the bartender. "I'd like… uh… lets see…" She thoguht about it for a second. "A Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against The Wall, please." She said with a smile.


Betsy catches Rogue's order from the table, and a smile curls the corner of her mouth. Amusement dances in purple eyes, and she beckons Rogue back over to their little table. "Come sit," she urges. "They'll bring the drinks over, no need to stand at the taps."

She looks at Meggan's outfit, a bit critically. "Hmm. It's not a bad look for you, that top, but I think you should get some heels of your own— a pair of cute wedges will go with almost anything for the next few months," she tells the blonde Brit.

Betsy looks back at Rogue, and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "A perk of the family's investments— and as I don't pay rent anymore, I've a few more pounds a year to splurge on drink and food and new shoes," Betsy remarks. "Rent in Manhattan is outrageous anyway, I'm glad I finally stopped leasing a flat."


Meggan laughs at Rogue's order. "That can't possibly be a real thing!" Course she's proved wrong in short order by the bartender's deft. The blonde will sit at the table Betsy picks. "You girls gotta promise to get me home. Last time I went drinking I got tricked into becoming a mermaid. That was a real mess." Laughing at her own past silliness. "I meet a blonde who said she could help me shop. Seemed nice, liked to fly too. But something called her away suddenly and we didn't get to finish."


Rogue laughed at Meggan's reaction to the drink as she settled down into her chair and then pulled her gloves off and ran her hands through her two-toned hair. "The drink comes with a little southern comfort in it. Who am I t'complain about its name?" She asked with a grin before looking between the two of them.

Rogue grinned to Betsy then and nodded her head at her once. "Thats how I saved up t'buy that car'a mine. Which—" She looked between the two of them. "Don't worry about bein' stranded out here all drunk'n such… Beast'n I reinforced the hood on the car… I can literally fly inside of it while liftin' the damn thing and it becomes a flyin' car. Sorta like that Harry Potter movie?" She laughed a little more and shook her head. "It really turns a few heads…An' sides… Flyin' drunk ain't illegal. Uh… at least I don't think it is…"


"I think it depends on if you're flying yourself, or operating the vehicle. I know when I was licensed to fly cargo planes, they were very specific about drinking and flying," Betsy says, wryly. "But you won't catch me flying without steel wrapped around me. A Cessna is one thing, but flying under one's own power— that's just /unnatural/," she says, with a completely straight face. Classic British dry wit.

"You should order Sex on the Beach," Betsy suggests to Meggan, with a playful tone. "There are some very raunchy drinks on the menu. Or off the menu."

"If you want, I can take a look at the engine," Betsy offers to Rogue. "It sounded like there's a little knock in one of your cylinders. Nothing major, but sometimes that can affect compression. I can't tinker with my Aston-Martin much," she says, wryly. "A friend replaced the engine with an electric generator, and one needs a few electrical engineering degrees just to change the battery."


"I love those movies," cheers Meggan. "So glad they got actors from the right countries for the roles. I really should read them sometime." She leans onto the table, the blonde all smiles as she looks at the two other women. "Anytime you want to fly Betsy I can tak you. There's no replacing the feel of wind in your hair." Sex on the Beach? Well if a friend recomends it, she'll try that. "I never will understand cars and how they work. Nobody who knows me will trust me behind the wheel."


Rogue shook her head side to side. "There bette'ah not be nothin' wrong with my car. I just paid a damn sight'a cash t'get the thing fixed all up." She sipped her drink when it arrived and offered a flirtatious smile to the Server when he went to leave.

Her green eyes went back over to Betsy then. "Do airplane laws apply t'crazy women flyin' their cars home at an altitude of 'Just over top them Powerlines, Officer'?" She flashed a grin then and shook her head. "I'm happy t'have you check the thing out, Purple Rain… I didn't even know you were good with that sorta thing. I know a few things I've picked up, watchin' Logan as he worked on stuff, but I leave that up to the autoheads."

A look was given over to Meggan and Rogue grinned at her too. "You should just go up t'the bar and ask the tender for a drink that ain't even on the menu. Just say somethin' as vulgar as you can think up. See what they say t'ya."


"I /can/ fly," Betsy says, defensively. "I just don't /like/ to. It takes an enormous amount of effort to levitate myself telekinetically. Frankly, I don't know how you two do it," she tells the other girls. "Jean finally taught me just enough to make small hops, but I don't trust myself for prolonged trips. Over a building, sure. Across town? I'll drive, thank you."

The drinks arrive, and Betsy hoists her in toast. "To flying," she offers, and throws back a gulp of the top-shelf vodka. At Rogue's suggestion, Betsy titters just a little, wagging her chin at Meggan. "Yes, do it," she urges the blonde. She glances back at Rogue, resting her elbows on the table as the booze helps her muscles uncoil a bit from her ususal stiff posture. "Oh— I've been working on cars for years," she explains. "Mum and Daddy gave me a new project every summer, and one summer my father and I rebuilt several cars. I've always had a fondness for working on engines," she explains.


Meggan is worried about gettin too drunk too quickly. She can be a lightweiht. "Flying was like walking for me. So hard for me to expain how I did it." Meggan seemed unsure if she should go to the bar, but with both of them encouraging she says, "I will." Picking it up the first drink she has first to toast, "To flying!" Eager to join int that toast with both women. She looks to the bar an tries to think what she can order that will be approved by the two girls. Least she ahs a little time.


The toast was shared with by Rogue and her sexually explicitly named drink. She would then sip it whole heartedly after the toast and nod her head in an approving way. She definitely never had a problem with getting drunk as quickly as possible… especially after Darcy had brought up the events that Rogue had had Xavier block from her mind. She knew they were still there, just… gagged and locked away. It still made her uncomfortable, so this was a good thing to get drunk over.

"I woulda love t'see Baby Betsy workin' on car engines." Rogue said with a grin to the purple haired woman. "Cute as can be." Another sip of her tonic and she shook her head. "Beasty told me all aobut how my flyin' works,, but I can't remember none'a how he talks. Barely a worda it. He's just all like nine syllable words and fifty words per spoken sentence. I love the big ol' blue teddy bear, but damn does he make me feel dumb as a brick."

Rogue nudged Meggan then with a covered elbow, making her have to decide quicker on a name, grinning at her of course too. Another drink and she sat her glass down. "How about askin' for a 'LIttle Hard Anal While Nobody's Lookin'?" She suggested to her blonde British friend. "Thats even me, bein' like tame'n shit." More grinning from the southern gal.


"Hank has a way of making everyone feel a bit foolish," Betsy agrees. She smiles at Rogue's compliment, waving down the waitress for a second round of drinks. "A pitcher of Long Island Iced Teas," she requests. "I do enjoy working on vehicles. It's… well. Daddy taught me quite a bit. A terribly inappropriate hobby for the landed gentry of Britain, which is why I liked it so much," she admits, wryly.

At Rogue's suggestion to Meggan, Betsy pinches the inside of Rogue's elbow, over the sleeve. Not hard, but enough to give her a jump. "Behave," she scolds Rogue, insincerely. "Meggan, pay her no mind, darling," she tells the other woman soothingly. "Order whatever you like."


Meggan is blushing in that milky skin at what Rogue suggests. "I don't think I would have come up with that given a week. I don't think know that many words." She swirls her drink as she looks at the bar often, then drains it. She shakes out her hair and walks up to the bar. Naturally she's catchin a few eyes but she is all business. "I need a strawberry snog with an all night shag." Laying the accent on thick as she can. She has no idea WHAT that is or could be. Besides something with strawberries. So here's hoping it won't taste bad. "I'll be over there with the the beautiful women and notable hair." Returning back.


Rogue laughed when she felt the pinch to her elbow from Betsy and she feigned some pain regardless of whether it hurt or not (and considering she can be hit by a train and walk away the winner of the collision..).

"Hey, I can't help it that I got a creative way'a thinkin'." She tells both women then. "Its not my fault! I've spent a lotta time around some seriously unsavory types, an'…" She pointed a naked finger at the side of her own head. "There's a lot more minds up here rollin' around than just mine. Some'a them come up with some majorly derranged stuff! This is me on 'good mode'." She grinned then some more and poured herself one of thoe long island teas.

When Meggan got up, Rogue watched her go and turned her head to look and listen to the order. When she heard it, she laughed. It sounded like a legit drink, if one was from Britain maybe. "Did Austin Powers come up with that one?" She called out over to Meggan at the bar.

END

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License