milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Since Wilford is going to be otherwise engaged on his birthday, he and Billy celebrated it a bit early this year. Like every year, Wilford ended the weekend battered, bruised, and exhausted.

And that's how he walks into the bar today. It's sometimes possible to take a beating so hard that even after you respawn, you still have the black eye and twisted knee you started with. Since hanging around here seems better than hanging around an empty house, Wilford gets some ice from the bar and claims a sofa by the fire to nurse his knee. When a rat comes by, Wilford orders some dinner.

He might actually sleep well tonight.

[ooc: Millitimed to after the weekend, but my work schedules is funny so I wanted to get this up now. Link contains lots of video game violence and death.]

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"I won my duel." Fry informs him, from nearby.

"Your duel?" Wilford asks. "Who still calls it a duel?"

Blink. "Me."

"What'd you use? A sword or pistols?"

He adjusts the ice on his knee. Of everything he'd done over the weekend, it would be a gopher hole that did lasting damage.

"Arm wrestling. Swords and pistols aren't allowed in school." Fry says.

"Then it wasn't a duel. It was an arm wrestle."

Duh, Fry.

"Since when was a duel defined by the weapon?"

"Since about a thousand years ago," Wilford says. "If you're not fighting to the death, it's just a fight."

"Oh. Well I won, anyway." Fry says.

He looks at Wilford's knee. "Which is more than you did apparently."

"I tripped."

The black eye is not from having tripped in a gopher hole. It was probably from walking around a corner straight into someone's fist.

"I was lucky I wasn't on a horse."

He would have probably lost a lot sooner if he had been.

"If you were on the horse you wouldn't have tripped."

"Do you know what happens if you're on a horse and it trips?" Wilford asks.

"How many legs did it trip with?"

"It doesn't matter how many legs it trips with. It falls on you and breaks your neck."

It's not fun.

Fry considers this.

"Surely this depends on the velocity of the horse."

"You think you could survive half a ton falling on you?"

Wilford sure can't.

"No, I mean if you were going at a gallop, surely you'd be thrown past the horse."

"It can still fall on you. It's a lot of animal, and you're tiny," Wilford points out.

"Point." Fry says. "I could just not ride a horse, then that risk won't happen."

Wilford wonders if all kids take everything so personally, of if it's just Fry.

"Nobody said you had to ride a horse."

"They might do later. You know what school trips and things are like."

Fry writes down 'Horses are dangeruos' in his notebook.

"I don't. What are they like?"

"They try and get you to 'broaden your horizons'."

"Don't they have, uh, permission slips for that? Just don't give it to your folks."

He assumes that's how it works. Something about being a walking liability tended to exclude Wilford from that stuff as a kid.

"They email reminders out about those these days."

"And you don't know your old man's password yet? You're not even trying."

He knew that much about Fry already though.

"It goes to his phone, and Mum's." Fry says. "But no, I wasn't."

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