That voice... The phantom stench of mayonnaise reaches his nostrils, and the albino has to reach up and press the back of his hand to his nose and mouth. His brows furrows as he uses every ounce of control left in his inebriated soul to swallow the rise of another wave of bile. His eyes close and when he opens then once more...
It is not the visage of a mayo-guzzling tax-thief he's met with - but a much cooler character design with a similar voice. A real ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ...
With puke-covered shoes now.
Gintoki pulls his hand from his mouth and offers a glance to the hand on his shoulder.
"Too much fun? Nah, nah... no such thing. How 'bout. How 'bout you try some an' then tell me. Then you tell me it's too much, huh?"
He reels backwards in an attempt to straighten his posture before pointing down the way he came.
"The booze outlet is that way. That way. C'mon."
And without paying much mind to the puke-shoes, Gintoki is already attempting to coerce this stranger back the way he had come. In fact, the albino seems like he's completely blocked The Pukening from his memory.
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It is not the visage of a mayo-guzzling tax-thief he's met with - but a much cooler character design with a similar voice. A real ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ...
With puke-covered shoes now.
Gintoki pulls his hand from his mouth and offers a glance to the hand on his shoulder.
"Too much fun? Nah, nah... no such thing. How 'bout. How 'bout you try some an' then tell me. Then you tell me it's too much, huh?"
He reels backwards in an attempt to straighten his posture before pointing down the way he came.
"The booze outlet is that way. That way. C'mon."
And without paying much mind to the puke-shoes, Gintoki is already attempting to coerce this stranger back the way he had come. In fact, the albino seems like he's completely blocked The Pukening from his memory.