It was a fresh, crisp evening. The cool, soft breeze brushed your face as you and Tommy were walking home. In Tommy's arms there was a decently large pack of beer he had bought, holding roughly 24 bottles inside. Although he was 17, Tommy wanted to go to a bar, get drinks with a fake ID and drag you along for the fun of it. You didn't really mind though; you were both pretty good friends. It was quite an entertaining situation after all, getting away with buying booze.

Suddenly, a white sketchy van driven by Phil pulled up beside the two of you. Techno hopped out, picked Tommy up by the collar and covered his mouth when he tried to shout. Wilbur had also came out of the van and lunged at you.

After struggling for a bit in Techno's grasp, Tommy licked Techno's hand that was covering his mouth.

He almost immediately drew back, wiping the dribble back on Tommy's shirt. "Tommy, that's disgusting," Techno commented with a touch of amusement in his tone.

Now that Tommy had free will of voice, he began to whine his head off. "Fuck off, I do what I need to do. Plus, what's the big deal with this uncomfortable carrying position?" he complained, obviously disliking the fact that Techno was holding him in such a childish way. He attempted (and failed) to attack Techno with the pack of beers he had, his grip on them firm.