Honey, you're a goddamn wildfire.

Don’t you have a drug dealer to go chat up instead of me, Kid?

And I repeat, you make a lot of assumptions. What's your problem, Hotshot? 

Okay, okay - listen, being drunk is subjective. It’s like life, you know? Like, are you really alive or not? Is this really happening or we just being housed in a large simulator? Hmm, aliens.

Being drunk is absolutely not subjective. You're either drunk or your not, simple as that. All the words that are leaving your mouth are making me even more sure that you are, in fact, drunk. No shame in it, just accept it, Princess. 

What a shock, you don’t know something.

You make a lot of assumptions, ya know. I never claimed to know everything. 

Was I staring? Whoopsies. I get like that when I’m a little tipsy.

I suggest you go be tipsy somewhere else then. 

Why does everyone think I’m staring at them? I’m just tryna look at the damn vending machine, man. Not that I can even buy anything from it yet, what with that stupid ass rule…

Cause it looks like you're staring, dumbass. And looking at a vending machine isn't going to speed up time. Focus on something else. 

Aw yeah! I knew I was close. I’m psychic and actually observant contrary to popular belief. Nah, you have to graduate to what’s in my pimp cup. I’ll score you a rum and coke. 

I don't really listen to what people consider popular belief. You're full of yourself. Give me a sip, I can handle it. 

How is lying on the floor justification enough for being drunk? If you see, like, the mayor laid down on the floor, would you assume he’s drunk?

It's not just the fact that you're on the floor. It's the words accompanied with your lying on the floor. Am I incorrect, though? 

Smartass, you’re still in high school, so I’m going with ten. Actually, I’d actually let you have a drink— these are the worst years of your life, at least make it tolerable.

Okay fine... I'm actually eleven and a quarter. And how do you know I'm still in highschool? Oh, really? Care to hand over yours then?

Yes, you are, and sticking around when I’ve made it clear your presence is the equivalent of a Candiru in my urethra is even more annoying.

I don't know what a Candiru is but thanks for the disturbing mental picture. And I'm not 'sticking around', I'm walking near. 

I'm not the one laying on the floor, am I? 

Annoyed comes to mind for right this moment.

Oh, I'm annoying? Okay. Sure. 

Anxious is the wrong word.

Enlighten me as to what the right word would be. 

Then take a hike, Kid.

Why so anxious to get rid of me all of the sudden? 

Honestly, I see your mouth moving, but don’t hear a thing coming out of it.  How about you move along, because the second I heard underage I completely lost any and all interest in even looking at you.

It's a good thing that I don't want you to have an interest in looking at me then, huh? 

That’s just an illusion. The night’s still young, worry not Josie. Say— aren’t you twelve years old or something…what gives?

A very convincing illusion, I must say. Thirteen and a half, actually. [She holds her hands up defensively] I'm just spectating, no need to cause a fuss.