Sang: Oh hey, Doc! How’ve you been? Welcome to my apartment, I guess. It’s not usually this crowded, I swear.
Pierce: *Ignoring the dead comment. What’s the big deal? It’s just alcohol. I drink with my dad all the time.
Tara: I’m not giving a kid alcohol, period. And your dad should know better; that stuff isn’t good for children.
Pierce: I chain smoke cigarettes, am currently loaded with radiation, fight off guys twice my size every day, and I’m literally dead, and you’re worried about alcohol?
Tara: I can’t control any of that other stuff, but I can at least keep you away from whiskey.
Pierce: Lame. And I’m thirteen, for the record. *Sends Hide a mean glare.
Myung: I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it right now.
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