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“Babe, this isn’t--” BANG BANG, “--exactly what--” BANG “--I,” you reloaded your gun as swiftly as you could in case there were more enemies nearby, “had in mind when you suggested that we go to a costume party!” The coast seemed to be clear, at least for now.
“You think I planned this!?” Chris’s voice was incredulous as he turned to stare at you. “I thought it was just gonna be fun, too!”
You sighed. “Never can catch a break, can we?”
“Apparently not.” His body sagged with disappointment. “Sorry about this.”
“Not your fault.” You elbowed him fondly. “Come on, we gotta find Leon in this mess and make sure he isn’t being stupid.”
A tiny smirk tugged at his lips. “You sure he’s capable of that?”
“Not at all, but I’m not gonna let him die drunk during a failed costume party of all things.”
“Would be kinda hilarious though,” Chris snickered. “Him dying in that getup.”
You rolled your eyes. “Only if you die in that one.”
His cheeks reddened as he looked down at himself, seeming to realize that his ‘sexy cop’ costume wasn’t any better than Leon’s ‘sexy FBI agent’. “Good point.”
You snorted. “That’s what I thought.”
He readied his gun. “Alright, alright. Let’s get moving.”
Several minutes, bullets, and spilled undead blood later, you found yourself asking, “Who the fuck releases a bioweapon during a costume party.”
To which Chris lovingly replied, “Someone with a fucked-up sense of humor, that’s who.”
“I need a drink . . .”
“We know, Leon.”