milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Guppy has a headache, of the kind that follows a night of heavy rock and roll, which he can't really remember.

He has a vague recollection of standing on the bar with a guitar, and at some point, throwing his trousers in a tree, for reasons that were probably apparent at the time.

Having already apologised to Bar for standing on her, he'll go look for his trousers when the painkillers have kicked in enough to venture into the light.

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Urquhart is leaning on the bar, with a mug of strong coffee.

"You look dramatically horrible," he says, conversationally.

"I don't remember much about the last... ten days or so." Guppy says. "And my mouth tastes like I ate my trousers, which are still missing in action."

"Then what is it you're wearing?" Urquhart says, looking. "Somebody else's trousers?"

"No, I have spare trousers here." Guppy says. "Most people in my time have more than one pair."

Beat.

"I wasn't wearing any when I woke up in the flower bed though."

Urquhart snorts with laughter. "You should be glad Dinah didn't find you that way!" he says. "She might have taken umbrage at semi-naked men in her flowerbeds."

"I don't think I've met Dinah. I hope."

"She's very nice," Urquhart grins. "Why wouldn't you want to meet her?"

Beat.

"I guess you could use some Klatchian coffee?"

"Because then I'd be embarrassed."

Beat.

"Coffee sounds good."

Urquhart gets him a large mug of Klatchian coffee from the bar.

"Now, that should make you very sober and clear-headed," he says. "It's that super-coffee from my friend Alfred's world."

Guppy, having never had Klatchan coffee before, thanks him and takes a large swig.

And starts screaming accordingly.

"What happened?" Urquhart asks, alarmed. "Do you need scotch to counter-act the effects?"

OH GOD THE WORLD IS SO HORRIBLE.

Guppy starts to significantly hyperventilate, and runs into the men's bathroom.

Urquhart comes after him, worried that he just broke the doctor.

With one sip of Klatchian coffee? That can't really work that intensely on him? Even a chronic lightweight like Guppy?

"Are you all right?"

It was quite a big swig, which was in itself foolish, because coffee is generally hot. But he didn't have any idea what he was drinking.

He's stopped screaming, but he's holding onto the sink white as a sheet, failing to control his breathing. The alcohol had worn down to a hangover; now he's down to the anxieties he usually suppresses. The past, the present worries, the guilt for every time he's put the kids in any danger...

"Guppy?" Urquhart says, quietly, putting a big hand on the poor man's shoulder.

"I can't breathe right." Guppy gasps, between hyperventilating.

He can feel his heart racing, the walls seem to be closing in, and the enormity of the universe and its problems rushes in on him.

"I'm dying... I can't die... they need me... I didn't... protect them..."

"You are not," Urquhart says. "Do you need me to take you to the infirmary and give you something to calm down?"

Beat.

"Look at me!"

"I don't know... what half the stuff... in there does." Guppy says, struggling but managing to look around at Urquhart. Not that he can see much beyond the walls closing in.

His face is the picture of mortal terror. In fact, the icon doesn't actually cover the look on his face right now.

Urquhart puts both hands on his shoulders and looks into Guppy's eyes. "Tell me about the half you know about," he says.

"I can't... my brain... is full... of stuff."

Might want to get him sitting down, or possibly un-knurd him, before he falls over.

Urquhart looks around, opens a door, and pushes Guppy in there, sitting him down on the closed lid of a toilet.

"Wait a moment," he says.

Half a minute later, he is back with a water glass half-full of scotch.

"Take a sip of that," he says, "and see what it does."

Guppy takes a sip, just about managing not to spill it.

As it starts to take effect, he drinks a bit more, starting to feel the chest pain wear off.

"Thanks... What just happened?"

"You reacted very badly to Klatchian coffee," Urquhart says, taking back the water glass of scotch. "I've never seen anything like it."

"...I think I must be allergic to it." Guppy says, still not understanding the basis of being knurd. "It was like... like the world caved in."

"It makes you un-drunk," Urquhart says, "very un-drunk. But perhaps you are allergic to too much sobriety. Like an overdose of sobriety?"

He shrugs.

"You are back to normal now, I guess, and just have to find your trousers before Dinah finds them in the garden."