Young Writers Society

Claire tries to communicate a "hello" to waffles, but sadly, only "hhmmafha" can be heard because of the enormous hand in her mouth.

"I'm on the case!" shouts Waffles, as he begins to jump out of his chair.

But he stands up to fast, and passes out.

(OOC: That happens to me, actually. xD)

Claire pulls and pulls on her arm and manages to finally get her hand out of her mouth.
...
"owe. my teeth hurt."

"I think sugar should be outlawed in here," Saint remarks, stirring her drink nonchalantly.

"Sugar is all they're running on," comments Sumi, stirring her cherry limeade that mysteriously popped out of nowhere.

JC runs up behind Razorblade and pours sugar in her drink while she's not looking.

Sumi winks at JC and discreetly tosses her some sugar packets.

WHAT?!?! NO SUGAR?!?!

That would be EVIL!!!! That would be almost as bad as no caffeine, but not quite.

MisterWaffles slowly comes to his senses, and stands up, slowly this time. He walks over to the bar, takes a seat, and asks for a milk.

"Really, Sumi? I wouldn't have guessed that all by me lonesome," Razorblade says to Sumi with a wink and a note of sarcasm. Turning to Tassen, she says, "Says he who has ADD." Poking JC, she continues, "Thanks for the extra sugar, matey," before downing the whole glass in one go.

Claire pulls up a seat at the bar and starts writing incessantly on a stack of napkins. After a few minutes, she looks up to the bartender.
"Who would ever think a tavern would give up sugar?" she asks, and then takes a sip of tea. "Without sugar, tea would be just terrible, terrible."

Jasmine walks in, shaking her head as she has just gotten caught in the rain (again) and of course didn't think to bring an umbrella, as that would be too much like good sense.She brushes some of the water off of her hat and goes to the bar to order a "sprite".

"Aye Claire, but there's this new invention called Splenda. Fake sugar!" Razorblade says, with a little more energy than normal.

To razorblade, tassen says "ADHD, oh intelligent one. (de-de-de)"

"Same difference, you prick," Razorblade says, playfully punching Tassen in the shoulder. "Anyway, you settled on a time for your party? I need to know what time I need to drag my carcass out of bed that day."