By Harriet Gillian
“What the actual fuck?” Marnie whispered. The man disappeared into the crowd and she rubbed her left boob. “Oooww. Jeez.”
Leila returned with the beers. Haphazard waterfalls of warmish lager splashed over her glitter encrusted DM’s. She handed one to Marnie then licked the spilled beer off her hand.
“Some guy just tit-punched me with his broken elbow.” Marnie said before taking a swig.
“What the fuck? On purpose?” Leila frowned. “Where is he?” She craned her neck and grew what seemed like a foot taller.
“No, it was an accident.” Marnie explained. “But Jesus, get some spacial awareness, dude. Your whole fucking arm is in plaster.” She raised her elbow so her arm was parallel with the ground. “You know, like in one of those really big arm cast things, like this?”
“That broken armed mother-fucker!” Leila shouted way louder than Marnie had expected.
Marnie chuckled. “You wanna go further in?”
“Can your tits take it?” Leila winked. They cheers’d their soggy paper cups, which sent more beer cascading down onto Leila’s shoes. “Oi, watch it now! Don’t be taking your tit-shit out on me.”