[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLjAxZTkwYS5UM3A2YVdVZ1UyaGhkdywsLjA,/staypuft.medium.png[/img] [color=8dc73f]Location: Nowhere, USA > Near Town Center (Sunset) || Interactions: [@Zyshi][/color][/center] "Yup. Yup. That guy is definitely putting those in his ass," snickered Steve as he looked down the aisle at his fellow shopper, observing his selection of Vaseline and watching as the product found its place in the man's basket, amidst the cucumber and zucchini that had already taken up residence in the cart. Oz looked on at their suspect, taking in the visage of an old and grizzled man, one that hadn't shaved in what looked liked weeks and could probably tell you a tale or two about his storied life, almost certainly with a sprinkle of awkward racial undertones. "[color=8dc73f]Shut the hell up,[/color]" Ozzie said finally with a dismissive wave as his attention went back to the shelves. He and Steve recalled their two favorite foods earlier. After a long debate, Ozzie decided Supreme Nachos were the best while Steve maintained that you couldn't beat an ice cream sundae with bananas and chocolate syrup. Naturally, there was only one way to resolve this. You have to create the ultra mega food. Eyes wide and shimmering like diamonds, Steve and Ozzie sprung from their chairs with an exorbitant amount of enthusiasm and ran to the [i]P***y Wagon[/i], the 1965 rust-spotted pale blue Ford Station Wagon with it's name spray painted in red across the tail gate. One Ice Nacho Creme Supreme later and the duo found themselves back at the store desperately seeking out the pink miracle elixir was was Pepto Bismal. "[color=8dc73f]Got it,[/color]" Ozzie exclaimed, holding the bottle up valiantly as if discovering the Holy Grail. A routine transaction later and the two men found themselves outside, one of which who had already ingested nearly half of the bottle. "Hey! Bro! Stop, you fu-" Steve slapped at the bottle, trying to seize it, demanding his fill. "[color=8dc73f]Hey, I nah done, duuuuu![/color]" Oz shouted, not even letting the rim of the bottle leave his lips. They impressively slapped it out, Ozzie thrashing his strongest of two confusingly weak arms against Steve's aimless fury of violent jazz hands that came crashing down on Oz's shoulder and back. "[color=8dc73f]FINE![/color]" came the booming surrender as Oz passed over the last third of the bottle. Steve emptied what was left and continued to stroll with his red-eyed pal as they came to the back end of the parking lot where Oz's majestic chariot awaited. Ozzie suddenly stopped and started as if witnessing a haunted vision. His eyes fell upon a young woman cupping some coffee just down the way as she strolled. Taking her in, he managed one sound... "[color=8dc73f]Huh.[/color]" Steve wasn't blind and his pupils also lasered in on the woman down the road. "Forget it, bro. Look at you," he said with a sideways glance and a grin. "Look at your gross ass fingernails and your friggin' neck beard! Bro, why do you even [i]have [/i]that? You can fix that in like 5 minutes, tops, and here you are. [i]That [/i]and you don't mix. If you're getting lonely, we are on the wrong street, my friend. I can show you a corner or two." Steve's words were fading out until Ozzie was completely ignoring him, the looming sounds of a quiet town and the nocturnal life slowly transitioning, letting their waking process be heard. "[color=8dc73f]Just shut up,[/color]" Ozzie finally stammered, his sobriety fighting a battle with his flame-activated euphoria. "[color=8dc73f]Should I... Should I just...[/color]" Before Steve could even inject an answer, Ozzie's hand shot up in an unnatural and awkward, almost violently rapid wave as he tried to get the woman's attention.