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xp_logsAs promised, Mark makes his hash brownies and Marie-Ange finds them. It's entertaining.
Whoever made the brownies was good with baking, Marie-Ange thought. They were rich and chocolatly and had that perfect brownie texture. Almost too thick to bite into easily. Which was why she was midway through her third brownie, while hummily happily to herself and stringing garland over the doorway. She'd had a vague idea of stringing some garland on Wanda, but re-thought it. She didn't want to get hurt.
"Okay, I did the rounds. Everyone had booze. Even Doug. I think we're a bad influence on him," Amanda was saying as she came through the doorway. The garland slipped and managed to wind up looped around her head and shoulders, and she blinked up at Marie-Ange through the fake foliage. "Hah, hah, very funny, mate..." she began, and then took in Marie-Ange's chocolately prize. Uh-oh. "Um, that's not one of Mark's brownies, is it?" she asked, one part amused, one part concerned. Marie-Ange had strange reactions to things sometimes. "'Cause... there's not just chocolate in that."
Marie-Ange teetered on the chair she was standing on, just a little and took another bite of brownie, thoughtful look on her face. "I don't know who made them. They're good. I didn't taste anything but chocolate..." She looked at the last piece of brownie, turning it over in her hands like a raccoon. "No caramel, no peanut butter, no mint. No sambucca, which is good because that would be very bad in a brownie. Maybe good in a cake, but not in a brownie."
The be-garlanded witch reached out to steady her friend, laying her hand on the small of her back. She wrinkled her nose at the mention of sambucca. After the pub crawl with Doug, it was definitely off the list. "Can I?" she asked, nodding at the remaining piece.
"Only because you are a friend." Marie-Ange declared, and handed Amanda the last piece with great solemn ceremony, before leaning against the wall and giggling. "I think I have had too much sugary snacks..." she said, between giggles.
Sniffing at the piece of brownie, Amanda snorted a little to herself, before tasting it to be sure. Yep, definitely one of Mark's. "Actually, you're stoned," she pointed out, grinning. "That was one of Mark's 'special' treats." She popped the rest of the piece in her mouth and held out her hand. "You want to come down off the chair? Before you fall down and break your neck?"
"Stoned?" The question was asked with no little sense of confusion. "How did I get stoned? The brownies got me stoned?" Marie-Ange took Amanda's hand and hopped down off the chair, wobbling a little. "Stuck the landing! Six points from the Russian judge. But Piotr was always a plonker, so it is okay."
Amanda was giggling by now as well, although more from her normally-staid friend's antics than from the brownie she'd eaten. Although, she was definitely going looking for one for herself at some point - Mark did good work. "Mark's brownies got you stoned, mate," she clarified, even as Marie-Ange apparently had forgotten that she was still holding onto Amanda's hand and hadn't let go. "And unless you go off on some pre-cog fit, 's nothing to worry about. Just enjoy it."
"Maybe it will be a good precog fit!" Marie-Ange chirped. "Who let Mark make the brownies then? They are good brownies... maybe we should let him make brownies all the time.." she giggled again, shaking her head. "Maybe should not let him make brownies. Except for Sofia. That would be funny if Sofia ate these brownies."
"Hey, that's an idea I can get behind..." Amanda was far too amused at the thought of Sofia stoned. "Maybe if we leave a plate on her doorstep or something?"
Marie-Ange just giggled again, waving her free hand airily. "Oooor, we could just leave them on her doorstep.." she paused, and looked at Amanda. "You just said that, didn't you? I am not repeating myself, I am repeating you. Like when my cousin was little and he used to repeat everything I said.." She considered going and getting another brownie, and then decided it would be a bad idea. Better to share. And there was pizza, she could have that.
In turning to go find the pizza, Marie-Ange remembered that the 'free hand' actually had the end of the garland in it, and she giggled again, and looped it over Amanda's head. "I can make us our very own Christmas Witch and it comes with a light and needs no batteries!"
Considering she still had the other end of the garland draped over her shoulders, Amanda was rapidly disappearing under fake greenery twined with festive ribbons. Blowing at the 'leaves' that were insisting on tickling her nose, she tried unsuccessfully to untangle herself. "Or I'll just be the Garland That Walks," she said, laughing helplessly. "Just the sort of thing we'd do, isn't it? Fight sentient Christmas decorations trying to take over the world by eating small children?"
Marie-Ange leaned over and held up a finger, poking Amanda in the nose. "If that happens, I am not responsible." She kept giggling, and tugged on the end of the garland. "I need pizza. There is still pizza, yes? We got a lot of pizza..."
"There's always pizz... oof!" The tugging moved the garland up over Amanda's eyes, and she stumbled a bit. "Hey! I think this thing's decided to eat me instead!"
Trying to undo the now-tangled garland was more complicated than it looked, and Marie-Ange took a few steps back to try to tug the end and unwind it from around Amanda. She'd have succeeded, if not for the arm of the sofa getting in her way, and she took a tumble backwards over the arm. "Ooops."
The sight of Marie-Ange's legs flailing rather ineffectually over the amr of the couch was just too ludicrous for words. Bursting into laughter, Amanda came over to help her up, still trailling garland. "C'mon, Frenchie, you're as stoned as a parrot..." she said, chuckling as she reached out a hand to pull the other girl back up.
"I like this couch.." Marie-Ange declared, still kicking her feet a little, dislodging one shoe and snickering as it flew in an arc to land on the floor several feet away. "It is friendly." She leaned back, tugging Amanda along with her, and then into her. "See? Friendly couch..."
With a muffled shriek, Amanda fell on top of Marie-Ange, the garland hampering her attempts to stop herself. As it was, she was finding Marie-Ange just as comfortable, if not more so, than the couch, as her friend promptly flung her arms around Amanda's neck in cheerful, stoned affection.
Naturally, it was at this precise moment that Doug entered the room with an eggnog in his hand. His eyes widened at the tableau in front of him. Marie-Ange laying back on the couch, Amanda's head resting on her chest, her arms thrown around the Brit's neck. It didn't help that Doug, having seen both young women naked, found his brain going directly to the perverted place by extension. He'd been nursing the eggnog all night, but this called for another drink. He slugged back the remains of his current eggnog and went to get more.
As Doug spun on his heel, Marie-Ange looked up, and managed to unwrap one arm from Amanda's neck, waving it around just a bit madly. "Doug! Doug help! The -demon- garland got us." The garland was now around her wrist and it bobbed as she waved her hand in mock-distress. "It could consume us at any minute!"
A muffled noise of agreement came from Amanda, who lifted her face from the crook of Marie-Ange's shoulder (and the hair she'd been buried in) to give Doug a helpless look. "Need the knightly services, mate," she said wryly. "Angie's been into Mark's brownies."
Doug cast his eyes skyward. He hadn't escaped quickly enough. "Why me?" he asked rhetorically. He set his mug down and stepped over to where Marie-Ange and Amanda lay. He sighed in put-upon fashion and extended his hand to Amanda to pull her up.
"I think it's eating my toes!" Marie-Ange protested. "I need those toes. For... um... " She thought about it for a moment. "Walking. And toenail painting." She held up one foot and wiggled the toes, which were indeed painted bright green and silver. "See? Whose toes would I paint if the garland ate mine? Ooh. Maybe Mark's. He might like that."
With all the wriggling and toe-waving going on, Amanda had to flail a bit to grab Doug's hand. As he hauled her up, she managed to detach Marie-Ange's arm from around her neck, but not the garland - it hung around her in several loops. "You paint Mark's toenails, he'll probably get you to do a manicure and all," she told the giggling Marie-Ange. Turning to Doug, she gave him a wry smile. "Ta, mate. Apparently Angie's a cuddly stoner."
Angie wasn't the only cuddly one, as Amanda was definitely standing very close to Doug. At a loss for what to do, he began attempting to assist in detangling her from the garland wrapped around her body.
Well, there had been some drinking with Sarah and Mark earlier - not enough for 'stinking' but enough for 'happy'. As Doug unwound garland, a dangling decoration caught her eye - dull green leaves, white berries. "Hey, mistletoe," she said, the witch-herbalist part of her brain kicking in and not every registering anything else.
Marie-Ange flopped back into the sofa cushions, contentedly hugging a throw pillow. "Tradition says you have to kiss her. It is a rule." She said, giggling again. "And you're too old for cootie shots."
Doug blinked, entirely startled at how quickly Marie-Ange had declared that he needed to kiss Amanda. Were things -that- obvious? Then he stopped and thought for a moment. It was more likely that she was being very giggly and silly, and expecting an embarassed peck on the cheek.
And maybe it was the alcohol, and maybe it was a tiny deepdown desire to make Angie jealous, and maybe it was the way Amanda was standing so close with her eyes wide and waiting like she had after the pub crawl. But whatever the reason, Doug pulled Amanda closer gently but insistently, and bent down to give her a long, tender, thorough kiss.
Amanda made a small, muffled noise of surprise, before returning the kiss with the same enthusiasm. The thought of Marie-Ange flitted through her mind, quickly followed by the reminder she was seeing the cop now, and quite happily so. As the kiss ended and she pulled back as far as his hands on her waist would allow, she gave him an amused grin. "Yay for traditions, then. 'Specially ones that follow old pagan rites."
Marijuana was a hallucinogen. Marie-Ange wasn't sure why she remembered that, but she did. Some awful anti-drug course at some point in her life and that one little fact had stuck with her. She peered at Dougand Amanda and put her fingers to her temples. "The brownie flavored crystal ball predicts that you will have eleventy-nineteen grandchildren.." she said, taking care not to giggle to give away that she was fairly sure she was seeing things.
Marie-Ange had barely reacted at all, and Doug couldn't decide whether that made him feel better or worse. And so, rather than stick around to try and analyze it, he grabbed his mug that he had set down and went in search of more eggnog. Eggnog was his friend.
Confused at the abruptness of Doug's departure, Amanda looked at Marie-Ange and then at the direction Doug had gone and shook her head. "Balmy, the lot of us," she muttered to herself, and then headed over to the couch. "C'mon, Angie, you were saying something about pizza? Time to deal with the munchies," she said. If her cheerfulness had a certain about of frustration to it, it was hard to pick up.
"I thought balmy was about winds..." Marie-Ange said distractly, watching the defeated garland carefully. If it moved she was going to stomp it. "Tropical balmy winds? How is that something that is crazy?" She giggled to herself and struggled to stand up, only succeeding after gripping the arm of the sofa and pulling herself up. "Pizza would be very good, yes. I would like pizza... and chocolate milk! I have not had chocolate milk in too long and if I am going to have the munchies then I can have some. That is a rule."
Amanda wrinkled her nose at the combination, but reached out a steadying hand to her friend. "Well, if it's the rule, then we'd better go find you some, yeah?"
Whoever made the brownies was good with baking, Marie-Ange thought. They were rich and chocolatly and had that perfect brownie texture. Almost too thick to bite into easily. Which was why she was midway through her third brownie, while hummily happily to herself and stringing garland over the doorway. She'd had a vague idea of stringing some garland on Wanda, but re-thought it. She didn't want to get hurt.
"Okay, I did the rounds. Everyone had booze. Even Doug. I think we're a bad influence on him," Amanda was saying as she came through the doorway. The garland slipped and managed to wind up looped around her head and shoulders, and she blinked up at Marie-Ange through the fake foliage. "Hah, hah, very funny, mate..." she began, and then took in Marie-Ange's chocolately prize. Uh-oh. "Um, that's not one of Mark's brownies, is it?" she asked, one part amused, one part concerned. Marie-Ange had strange reactions to things sometimes. "'Cause... there's not just chocolate in that."
Marie-Ange teetered on the chair she was standing on, just a little and took another bite of brownie, thoughtful look on her face. "I don't know who made them. They're good. I didn't taste anything but chocolate..." She looked at the last piece of brownie, turning it over in her hands like a raccoon. "No caramel, no peanut butter, no mint. No sambucca, which is good because that would be very bad in a brownie. Maybe good in a cake, but not in a brownie."
The be-garlanded witch reached out to steady her friend, laying her hand on the small of her back. She wrinkled her nose at the mention of sambucca. After the pub crawl with Doug, it was definitely off the list. "Can I?" she asked, nodding at the remaining piece.
"Only because you are a friend." Marie-Ange declared, and handed Amanda the last piece with great solemn ceremony, before leaning against the wall and giggling. "I think I have had too much sugary snacks..." she said, between giggles.
Sniffing at the piece of brownie, Amanda snorted a little to herself, before tasting it to be sure. Yep, definitely one of Mark's. "Actually, you're stoned," she pointed out, grinning. "That was one of Mark's 'special' treats." She popped the rest of the piece in her mouth and held out her hand. "You want to come down off the chair? Before you fall down and break your neck?"
"Stoned?" The question was asked with no little sense of confusion. "How did I get stoned? The brownies got me stoned?" Marie-Ange took Amanda's hand and hopped down off the chair, wobbling a little. "Stuck the landing! Six points from the Russian judge. But Piotr was always a plonker, so it is okay."
Amanda was giggling by now as well, although more from her normally-staid friend's antics than from the brownie she'd eaten. Although, she was definitely going looking for one for herself at some point - Mark did good work. "Mark's brownies got you stoned, mate," she clarified, even as Marie-Ange apparently had forgotten that she was still holding onto Amanda's hand and hadn't let go. "And unless you go off on some pre-cog fit, 's nothing to worry about. Just enjoy it."
"Maybe it will be a good precog fit!" Marie-Ange chirped. "Who let Mark make the brownies then? They are good brownies... maybe we should let him make brownies all the time.." she giggled again, shaking her head. "Maybe should not let him make brownies. Except for Sofia. That would be funny if Sofia ate these brownies."
"Hey, that's an idea I can get behind..." Amanda was far too amused at the thought of Sofia stoned. "Maybe if we leave a plate on her doorstep or something?"
Marie-Ange just giggled again, waving her free hand airily. "Oooor, we could just leave them on her doorstep.." she paused, and looked at Amanda. "You just said that, didn't you? I am not repeating myself, I am repeating you. Like when my cousin was little and he used to repeat everything I said.." She considered going and getting another brownie, and then decided it would be a bad idea. Better to share. And there was pizza, she could have that.
In turning to go find the pizza, Marie-Ange remembered that the 'free hand' actually had the end of the garland in it, and she giggled again, and looped it over Amanda's head. "I can make us our very own Christmas Witch and it comes with a light and needs no batteries!"
Considering she still had the other end of the garland draped over her shoulders, Amanda was rapidly disappearing under fake greenery twined with festive ribbons. Blowing at the 'leaves' that were insisting on tickling her nose, she tried unsuccessfully to untangle herself. "Or I'll just be the Garland That Walks," she said, laughing helplessly. "Just the sort of thing we'd do, isn't it? Fight sentient Christmas decorations trying to take over the world by eating small children?"
Marie-Ange leaned over and held up a finger, poking Amanda in the nose. "If that happens, I am not responsible." She kept giggling, and tugged on the end of the garland. "I need pizza. There is still pizza, yes? We got a lot of pizza..."
"There's always pizz... oof!" The tugging moved the garland up over Amanda's eyes, and she stumbled a bit. "Hey! I think this thing's decided to eat me instead!"
Trying to undo the now-tangled garland was more complicated than it looked, and Marie-Ange took a few steps back to try to tug the end and unwind it from around Amanda. She'd have succeeded, if not for the arm of the sofa getting in her way, and she took a tumble backwards over the arm. "Ooops."
The sight of Marie-Ange's legs flailing rather ineffectually over the amr of the couch was just too ludicrous for words. Bursting into laughter, Amanda came over to help her up, still trailling garland. "C'mon, Frenchie, you're as stoned as a parrot..." she said, chuckling as she reached out a hand to pull the other girl back up.
"I like this couch.." Marie-Ange declared, still kicking her feet a little, dislodging one shoe and snickering as it flew in an arc to land on the floor several feet away. "It is friendly." She leaned back, tugging Amanda along with her, and then into her. "See? Friendly couch..."
With a muffled shriek, Amanda fell on top of Marie-Ange, the garland hampering her attempts to stop herself. As it was, she was finding Marie-Ange just as comfortable, if not more so, than the couch, as her friend promptly flung her arms around Amanda's neck in cheerful, stoned affection.
Naturally, it was at this precise moment that Doug entered the room with an eggnog in his hand. His eyes widened at the tableau in front of him. Marie-Ange laying back on the couch, Amanda's head resting on her chest, her arms thrown around the Brit's neck. It didn't help that Doug, having seen both young women naked, found his brain going directly to the perverted place by extension. He'd been nursing the eggnog all night, but this called for another drink. He slugged back the remains of his current eggnog and went to get more.
As Doug spun on his heel, Marie-Ange looked up, and managed to unwrap one arm from Amanda's neck, waving it around just a bit madly. "Doug! Doug help! The -demon- garland got us." The garland was now around her wrist and it bobbed as she waved her hand in mock-distress. "It could consume us at any minute!"
A muffled noise of agreement came from Amanda, who lifted her face from the crook of Marie-Ange's shoulder (and the hair she'd been buried in) to give Doug a helpless look. "Need the knightly services, mate," she said wryly. "Angie's been into Mark's brownies."
Doug cast his eyes skyward. He hadn't escaped quickly enough. "Why me?" he asked rhetorically. He set his mug down and stepped over to where Marie-Ange and Amanda lay. He sighed in put-upon fashion and extended his hand to Amanda to pull her up.
"I think it's eating my toes!" Marie-Ange protested. "I need those toes. For... um... " She thought about it for a moment. "Walking. And toenail painting." She held up one foot and wiggled the toes, which were indeed painted bright green and silver. "See? Whose toes would I paint if the garland ate mine? Ooh. Maybe Mark's. He might like that."
With all the wriggling and toe-waving going on, Amanda had to flail a bit to grab Doug's hand. As he hauled her up, she managed to detach Marie-Ange's arm from around her neck, but not the garland - it hung around her in several loops. "You paint Mark's toenails, he'll probably get you to do a manicure and all," she told the giggling Marie-Ange. Turning to Doug, she gave him a wry smile. "Ta, mate. Apparently Angie's a cuddly stoner."
Angie wasn't the only cuddly one, as Amanda was definitely standing very close to Doug. At a loss for what to do, he began attempting to assist in detangling her from the garland wrapped around her body.
Well, there had been some drinking with Sarah and Mark earlier - not enough for 'stinking' but enough for 'happy'. As Doug unwound garland, a dangling decoration caught her eye - dull green leaves, white berries. "Hey, mistletoe," she said, the witch-herbalist part of her brain kicking in and not every registering anything else.
Marie-Ange flopped back into the sofa cushions, contentedly hugging a throw pillow. "Tradition says you have to kiss her. It is a rule." She said, giggling again. "And you're too old for cootie shots."
Doug blinked, entirely startled at how quickly Marie-Ange had declared that he needed to kiss Amanda. Were things -that- obvious? Then he stopped and thought for a moment. It was more likely that she was being very giggly and silly, and expecting an embarassed peck on the cheek.
And maybe it was the alcohol, and maybe it was a tiny deepdown desire to make Angie jealous, and maybe it was the way Amanda was standing so close with her eyes wide and waiting like she had after the pub crawl. But whatever the reason, Doug pulled Amanda closer gently but insistently, and bent down to give her a long, tender, thorough kiss.
Amanda made a small, muffled noise of surprise, before returning the kiss with the same enthusiasm. The thought of Marie-Ange flitted through her mind, quickly followed by the reminder she was seeing the cop now, and quite happily so. As the kiss ended and she pulled back as far as his hands on her waist would allow, she gave him an amused grin. "Yay for traditions, then. 'Specially ones that follow old pagan rites."
Marijuana was a hallucinogen. Marie-Ange wasn't sure why she remembered that, but she did. Some awful anti-drug course at some point in her life and that one little fact had stuck with her. She peered at Dougand Amanda and put her fingers to her temples. "The brownie flavored crystal ball predicts that you will have eleventy-nineteen grandchildren.." she said, taking care not to giggle to give away that she was fairly sure she was seeing things.
Marie-Ange had barely reacted at all, and Doug couldn't decide whether that made him feel better or worse. And so, rather than stick around to try and analyze it, he grabbed his mug that he had set down and went in search of more eggnog. Eggnog was his friend.
Confused at the abruptness of Doug's departure, Amanda looked at Marie-Ange and then at the direction Doug had gone and shook her head. "Balmy, the lot of us," she muttered to herself, and then headed over to the couch. "C'mon, Angie, you were saying something about pizza? Time to deal with the munchies," she said. If her cheerfulness had a certain about of frustration to it, it was hard to pick up.
"I thought balmy was about winds..." Marie-Ange said distractly, watching the defeated garland carefully. If it moved she was going to stomp it. "Tropical balmy winds? How is that something that is crazy?" She giggled to herself and struggled to stand up, only succeeding after gripping the arm of the sofa and pulling herself up. "Pizza would be very good, yes. I would like pizza... and chocolate milk! I have not had chocolate milk in too long and if I am going to have the munchies then I can have some. That is a rule."
Amanda wrinkled her nose at the combination, but reached out a steadying hand to her friend. "Well, if it's the rule, then we'd better go find you some, yeah?"
