[h1]Injae Park[/h1]

[hr]

"Hey, Ratchet, I, uh, need to speak to you."

Ratchet pulled herself off the railing and turned around to address the shorter girl. "Hey, Jen," Ratchet replied, putting the backs of her elbows on the railing. "Glad to see you're not completely dead from pulling that stunt. What's up?"

Clearly Jennifer was faking her drunken stupor; otherwise she would likely be talking in that same addled state as before.

"I... It's clear that I was faking it back there. All of it."

Called it.

"Hey, hey, it's OK," Ratchet said. "That's not what I'm concerned with. I'd probably do the same if I had drunk a bottle of vodka and three (right?) shots and still come out with my mind in one piece. Just... uh, don't make it a habit. That's how bad things happen." Ratchet got off the railing.

"I kind of like it better out here," Ratchet remarked. "Fewer crazed drunk folks running around. Granted, I came with a wrench and screwdriver so I can clonk some heads if a pecking party starts up, but I'm not sure if I want to witness a scene like that in [u]Brave New World.[/u] You know, 'Orgy-porgy, Ford and fun?'" Ratchet exhaled and rolled her eyes, before looking out to the side.

Ratchet turned back towards Jen. "Just asking," she inquired, "but why [i]aren't[/i] you drunk?"

Come to think of it, Ratchet had witnessed two other bodily damages to Jen that ended with her coming inexplicably out all right. (Well, maybe she didn't witness the dog biting Jen, but that definitely sounded like a piercing scream of pain.)