Rin’s gaze drifts around the rooftop as the world blurs  into a dark haze, glittering with white specks. She spins and spins, and, with a slight twitch of her neck, falls to the ground in laughter.
“Why did you just drink it?!  Kenji is going to have your head…  Or just blame it on feminist conspiracies.” Hisao scolded as he held the empty whiskey bottle and tossed it off the roof.
“It looked so *hic* shiny and I was really thirsty and the shunset was perfect and I didn’t *gulp*  wanna roof and you were late for our dinner and a-*hic* tehee~”, she rambled, even worse than usual.  
“Drinking is bad for your health though!  You are going to be so hung over tomorrow tha-“
“EMI! I remember now!  You shaid *hic* we were going to have dinner on the roof.  You lost the bet!” Rin burst out, interrupting Emi mid-fuss.
*sigh* “Well lets try and eat.  I gave up track time to cook his spaghetti for you Rin and you’ll enjoy it, drunk or not.” Emi whined as she laid out the steaming bowl of spaghetti on top of her blanket.  “Just try not to puke in it”
Rin rolls off her back and sits up, smiling stupidly as Hisao sets a bowl between her crossed legs.
“Spaghetti always  looks *hic* like a… like a….” She fumbles for words and looks up at Hisao quizzically.
“What’s the word for when something looks like hair but you want to eat it?” she giggles out holding a string of spaghetti in her mouth.
“Rin.  There isn’t word for that.  Or most things you say.” Hisao said as he stifled a laugh at her clumsy slurp of the noodle, whipping her against the nose once.  She crossed her eyes and blinked once, then fell back again laughing.
“This is almost worse than time you were high” Emi groaned, shaking her head in disapproval.
“But I’m on the roof.  Ishn’t that *hic* high?” Rin said while opening her mouth in an attempt to hold back a sneeze.