<em>Ingrid, giggling at Morgan</em><br/><br/>"Well it'd be a better story if you were butt ass naked. Probably a better view too. Men just don't look right naked from only the hips down." Gotta have the total package for it to be interesting.  She took a long and slow sip of the Gatorade and sighed. It tasted wonderful.  She wanted to chug it but she knew that it would be folly and that she'd be on her knees… not in a happy way either.  "I forgive you.  Don't worry about it."  It was now water under the bridge as far as she was concerned.  She couldn't remember the last time that she had felt so emotionally dead and destroyed. So empty.<br/><br/>"Alright. Thank you."  She watched as he got out two Advil.  It sounded like boulders rolling around in the plastic instead of small round pills. "Aww, come on! No sharpie tattoos?" She snickered. "Like you could find a spot. Maybe on my hoohah but well… like you said, you'd be dead before you could explain the joke."  She swallowed the pills with a little burst of the sports drink.  Good ol' electrolytes.  Num.  "Shit, I'm still drunk. I don't know what you're talking about.  It's just the ass end of it where motor functions are impaired but you're mostly sober.  Can think clearly but watch out for walking into walls."<br/><br/><br/>