Post by Admin on Mar 31, 2016 6:04:50 GMT
Julia went into her Ready Room. But she didn't quite make it all the way in, because once she saw the... disaster zone that made up her once-Ready Room, she actually screamed. Julia, in fact, hadn't screamed in some time, but this event clearly called for it.
Her scotch.
Was.
Gone.
Oh my gods.
It was absolutely... gone. Ruined. Kaputt. Destroyed. Devastated. Corrupted. Irreparable. Shot. Shattered.
That. Fucking. Tholian. If it weren't already dead, Julia would kill it. How many hundreds of credits had she spent on that scotch?
Way too many. Oh, Julia was pissed.
When their Tholian "guest" had emitted its stupid little signal, it ruined her glass-alcohol collection. By Bacchus, she would have murdered it... and to hell with any stupid diplomat X.O. that said otherwise. Hades. Every single bottle was shattered.
She felt like screaming. She felt like crying. She felt like pitching every last shard at her Bridge team and seeing how they liked the travesty. Oh gods. How was she supposed to survive this kind of thing? It just wasn't fair.
She sniffed as she inspected the mess, wondering if there was any, any way she could collect the spilled scotch, but it seemed not.
Then, a miracle happened.
In the far corner of the cabinet, a single, plasticized, unscathed bottle of shiraz wine had survived.
It was drunk within twenty minutes, and Julia was happy.
But what then? What would she do without her scotch supply?
Pray to the god of wine, of course. He'd already answered one prayer.
(As a warning... I'm absolutely snockered. Please disregard typos.)
Her scotch.
Was.
Gone.
Oh my gods.
It was absolutely... gone. Ruined. Kaputt. Destroyed. Devastated. Corrupted. Irreparable. Shot. Shattered.
That. Fucking. Tholian. If it weren't already dead, Julia would kill it. How many hundreds of credits had she spent on that scotch?
Way too many. Oh, Julia was pissed.
When their Tholian "guest" had emitted its stupid little signal, it ruined her glass-alcohol collection. By Bacchus, she would have murdered it... and to hell with any stupid diplomat X.O. that said otherwise. Hades. Every single bottle was shattered.
She felt like screaming. She felt like crying. She felt like pitching every last shard at her Bridge team and seeing how they liked the travesty. Oh gods. How was she supposed to survive this kind of thing? It just wasn't fair.
She sniffed as she inspected the mess, wondering if there was any, any way she could collect the spilled scotch, but it seemed not.
Then, a miracle happened.
In the far corner of the cabinet, a single, plasticized, unscathed bottle of shiraz wine had survived.
It was drunk within twenty minutes, and Julia was happy.
But what then? What would she do without her scotch supply?
Pray to the god of wine, of course. He'd already answered one prayer.
(As a warning... I'm absolutely snockered. Please disregard typos.)