"I don't know, the only thing I can play is the piano, and I don't read music. Can't sing worth a shit, eith-" Felix's words cut off, and he blindly kept batting at the moles as they popped up, waving the bottle in toward the corner. "Hey, we should totally fuck up King of the Hammer." The Wack-a-Mole machine chimed that he'd finished his game, and while he was nowhere near his high score he still managed to procure a fairly decent number of tickets. Those were going to go toward more tokens now that he saw the bounty of strength testing machines along the wall. "I used to see those fucking machines at this stupid little fair they had every year where I grew up. I mean, a bigger one, like twenty feet tall, but I never had the cash to try it out."
Honestly, the only times he'd even been to a fair like that were when he could sneak in, and usually he spent the day picking pockets and stealing snacks. He'd gone on one ride once and threw up two chili dogs, a cotton candy, a big gulp of soda, and greasy nachos all over the kid next to him. It hadn't been a waste really considering he hadn't paid for a damn thing, but he wondered to himself for a moment why most of his stories involved him puking on something.