"Eff!" Battle Ballerina Resplendant hisses. "Where you fackin' bin! Squizzy's going spare, mate!"
Battle Ballerina Ineffable scrubs a hand over already-smeary mascara. "Too much sambuca, innit?" she says blearily.
"Did you pull a fuckin' munter again," Resplendant says, and Ineffable is silent for far, far too long, even once Resplendant starts laughing at her, and Resplendant trails off and gives her a nudge. "You awright?"
"You ever fink," Ineffable mutters, "that Ragnarok bird, she might be a, you know, a lesbian?"
"Wot, Ragnarok Regina?" Resplendant gives her a puzzled look.
"Yeah, look." Ineffable looks embarrased. "I'm not being, like, a homophobe or nuffink, I got really mullered last night and I woke up in someone's bed and like scarpered, right, but their place was really weird and I fink it...might have been Ragnarok's fortress?"
"You wot," Resplendant says. "Nah, you're avin' a larf mate, you're avin' a bubble — you slag," she adds, more proudly than anything. "'Ow much fuckin' sambuca did you fuckin' 'ave, mate—"
"Awright!" Ineffable scowls. "Keep it fuckin' down, yeah?"
"Squizzy's gonna go fuckin' spare, mate," Resplendant says, loud and cheery. "She's gonna go apeshit."
"Yeah well what she don't fuckin' know won't fuckin' 'urt 'er, will it."
"She's gonna find out," Resplendant says. "You can't keep your fuckin' mouth shut, mate. Just told me, dincha? You coulda said, yeah mate, pulled someone I fort was well fit and then I woke up and 'e looked like Ross Kemp's arsecheek—"
"Oh fack off."
"Well you're gonna have to stop calling her Ragnarok Vagina, aren'tcha? Cos that's probably like a hate crime now—"