BACKSTREET BOYS — private

[PINCHER]

He was drunk. Was he? Yes, he was, he was sure of it. Perhaps it would have been for the best for Pincher to avoid the hard alcohol drinks that had been offered to him at the rave party. And maybe he should have avoided influencing two other male pirates, Ilijas and Papercutter, to have a fun drinking contest with him. Not really a drinking contest but Pincher practically had convinced them to have a sort of competition on who could drink and still dance decently. It had ended up with it being a messy tie between the three, both hardly able to stand correctly on their feet while Pincher mumbled about how the music reminded him of his dream of being in a band. He had always desired to be one with his best pals, his bros. That was the odd looking coyote and polite bengal, right? He wasn't entirely positive if that was truly them or if he was drunk enough to mix up their name.

"Paps....Jazzy....fuck, w-we need to practice. Where the fuck are the instruments?" Pincher's muffled voice danced in the cool night air alongside the noises of the tall canine bumping into stuff and various items crash. They were currently in one of the abandoned beach huts that were decently far away from the party for them to get distracted by the idea of drinking and dancing. After a while of scrambling, Pincher was able to find one room that was filled with various types of instruments, his vibrant electric blue eyes glinting with joy as he barked "Eureka!" as he slammed his head down into a basket, his jaws clamping around the tip of a kazoo instrument and blowing intensely into it, making long silly noises though Pincher thought it sounded like heaven's angels. Stopping, the onyx captain turns to face the other two, whining "Come on, we g...gotta practice or we'll never be rockstars." A small hiccup bubbled out of his chest and Pincher simply went back to playing an offkey tune on the kazoo instrument.

( [member=714]Ilijas[/member] / [member=83]Papercutter[/member] )

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© MADI

[Verdigris]

  [font=trebuchet ms]Ha, as if he could be defeated at something so easy as a drinking contest. As far as he was concerned, he had won easily- the others had collapsed several moments before he had. No one... no one in their right mind could call that a tie, unless everyone had been hitting the booze along with the three of them.

  Not that it mattered, given that Pincher had evidently lost interest in the competition, in favor of rambling about being in a band. In spite of himself, Paper snickered. ”Ain’t never seen you play an instrument, even,” he crowed, struggling to get back on his feet. ”Think you’re gonna... gonna lead a band?”

  Wait, he was... searching for the instruments. Was he actually serious about this? Shaking his head, the jackal stumbled over at the sound of crashing and Pincher’s triumphant cry. Approaching the basket, he stared dumbfoundedly at Pincher and his odd-looking tube. So he did play an instrument, and actually really, really well at that.

  ”Guess I was wrong,” Paper mumbled, peering into the basket and blinking to bring the objects within into focus. One blurry purple-and-white object stood out to his intoxicated vision- he tugged it out quickly and stared at it, then blew air into one end. Nothing happened.

  With a grunt, he smacked the side of the instrument- the keys produced a high-pitched, discordant chord.

  Eyes widening, he set the instrument on the floor and clumsily tapped the white surface repeatedly. Each tap seemed to produce a different sound. ”You- you have any idea what this is?” he asked, turning his head towards the doorway. ”’Cause it’s amazing.”