Date: 2007-08-11 02:16 am (UTC)
Pickles was confused. By where he was, partially, because he did happen to be quite drunk and on some new form of uppers to boot. Which didn't do much, with the kind of tolerance that Pickles had built up over the years. But, yes. Disoriented.

"I don't... I gotta... There's a two in there. Somewhere," was all he mumbled in return to Ofdensen, vaguely, eyes widening. He was married? To some dude named Damien.

"Oh, frickin' shit-monkies! I'm married to the friggin' Antichrist! That's awesome!"

And wandered off, of course, in some random other direction.
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