Brad's stomach was getting sore, he was laughing so much tonight. When Peter pointed at Rusty and shouted 'Legolalas', he was done for. Brad literally rolled off the couch, curled up and howling with laughter. He couldn't breathe. Peter was hysterical, and just a touch too weird for his own good. Inviting him to frisbee had been the best idea ever. "Dwarven prince!" he spit out, face screwed up in fits of giggles. "Oh God! Oh God! Can't breathe!!!"
Finally, after a few moments, Brad got to his knees and, panting for breath, resting his hands on his friend's legs, patting them as though he were about to give them some serious information. "Okay, men. All right. I'm drunk. And I can't get up now. I'm gonna stay on the floor. Come, come sit on the floor with me. Your prince demands it."