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“Bet you twenty canopy coins to drink this,” Peacock said.
Marie wrinkled her nose at the shot glass of the foul green liquid.
“Ew, no. What even is that?”
“Absinthe.”
“Tricia, we are not drinking any alcohol. Especially absinthe. We’re not even of age!”
“We kill people. I smoke like a chimney."
“I’m not drinking that,” Marie said.
“Fine,” Peacock shrugged.
And before she could stop her, it was down the hatch. Marie watched as steam poured out of her ears and her face swelled, turning bright red. Sometimes the reality-warping powers were fun to watch. Colorful swirls appeared in her empty eye sockets as she swayed on her feet.
“You owe me twenty canopy coins,” she slurred.
“I didn’t even make the bet,” Marie said. “You did.”
Peacock’s only answer was a series of very loud hiccups that sent up bright green bubbles. Marie sighed, putting an arm around her friend.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go get Dr. Avian. He’ll treat you for alcohol poisoning.”
Never a dull moment with the Peacock, that was for sure.