You're talking to a man who was officially declared K.I.A. during World War II but who's still walking around and talking today. So, I'm all in for crazy.
[ The waitress comes back, and they put in their orders for their own beers plus the curly fries to split, and she deposits the two shot glasses in front of them. The drinks are— dark murky greenish? maybe? it's hard to tell what's even in the glasses except that it smells cloyingly sweet, and Bucky shoots an I told you so look at her, before taking one glass. ]
Bottoms up, Johnson.
[ He slams it back. It tastes like very, very boozy juice; it's strong, whatever it is, but sweet enough that it goes down smooth. Maybe it'll help grease up Daisy's storytelling wheels, too. ]
no subject
[ The waitress comes back, and they put in their orders for their own beers plus the curly fries to split, and she deposits the two shot glasses in front of them. The drinks are— dark murky greenish? maybe? it's hard to tell what's even in the glasses except that it smells cloyingly sweet, and Bucky shoots an I told you so look at her, before taking one glass. ]
Bottoms up, Johnson.
[ He slams it back. It tastes like very, very boozy juice; it's strong, whatever it is, but sweet enough that it goes down smooth. Maybe it'll help grease up Daisy's storytelling wheels, too. ]