Bishop and Noa, 12 AM
The mood around the Dog Park is still as vibrant and excited as it had been at the beginning of the night – maybe more so now that most of the inhabitants were three sheets to the wind, stumbling around, hooting and hollering and making Austin real damn aware of their presences on this planet. In true form Bishop isn’t quite as vocal as the rest of the park, but that’s not to say he isn’t enjoying the hell out of himself. For the last hour the Hellhounds Chaplain has been proving that even with half a jug of moonshine coursing through his veins he can still manage to get a ping-pong ball to land in a fish bowl without really looking. What the name of this game is he’s got no idea, but he the prize has been enough to keep him seated on the wooden stool in front of the booth. The prospect running the booth – Zeke – has been handing out bags of Swedish fish to anyone who manages to land a ball in a fish bowl. If Bishop was being honest, the candy is what’s kept him in one place for so long. His sweet tooth is something fierce and the powered sugar on a funnel cake earlier just wasn’t enough to tide him over.
“Chaplain, you really ought to give someone else a shot,” Zeke says from his place in the booth.
“Why? Ain’t like I’m going to be holding onto all this candy,” Bishop replies, a smile quirking up one side of his mouth. In truth he had every intention of handing out most of the little red candy fish to the kids around the Dog Park. “And it’s not like I’m running people off,” there’s a pause while he glances around them, spotting Noa coming their direction “I could even give you a hand in getting more people over here.”
Rising up from the stool, Bishop waves an arm in the air while calling out. “Hey darlin’, why don’t you come over here and prove to Zeke that I ain’t the only person who can manage to get a ping pong ball into a fish bowl,” he’s grinning at her now, his expression making it clear that a ‘no’ just won’t do. “He seems to think I’m going to single-handedly wipe him out of candy.”