"Swing all you want. I just hope you come out alive," she said with a smirk.
An eye roll was given to him at the mention of boy Slayers. "Sorry to inform you, in case you were hoping of being chosen - but this is strictly a girl's club. No boys allowed." She paused, sip-sip-sipped at her drink. "I'd like to think it's some way that the world wanted to even out the total sexism thing, but mostly I think it's because the guys who made us figured no one would ever suspect a girl to do any damage. Plus there's this whole demon rape aspect." She waved her hand like it was no big deal.
"Military? Eugh," she wasn't polite in saying. "I've dealt with military. My ex boyfriend was kind of a commando. And man, they suck. They alll...suck." She enunciated that last word with extra zip.
"I like how you think." She tapped her own head. "Working against the man, whoever that man is. The man usually sucks. God, I'm saying 'suck' a lot." It wasn't at all a sexual comment, just something that had registered in her brain as a funny coincidence to her. She was being silly again, and couldn't help it. She was finding lots of things funny, and also feeling very opinionated. Was this what being drunk did to people? But was she even drunk? Could she blame it on that, either way? Were these too many thoughts? EEegawds! Enough with the thinking. She groaned a little.
"It? That's it? It...oh. It. The hair? Yea. It's nice. I mean, I don't usually like that on guys. But on you it's nice." She reached over innocently to touch it, practically petting it. This? Not something she would do if she wasn't feeling so carefree. It wasn't a come-on. She was just very low on inhibitions. (Not that she thought Eliot was ugly - far from it.) "What kind of conditioner do you use?"