Jewel's a really slutty blond cheerleader

[Cicadan]

"Dude, you're seriously going to need someone else carrying that in. Want me carry some stuff in or not?"

Passive-aggressive much? Lucille didn't know Chris was tsundere (anime terms had entered her vocab essentially solely because of that one time SOTFailest cast had done an SOTF anime what-if for April 1st of last year) for poor Rupert? Worse scandals out there, anyhow. She'd consider sending a text off to one of her goons, seeing if the idea of it caught any fire but like... eh, didn't seem that juicy? In a way it was almost too obvious.

Good gossip, the juicy kinda prime-cut, was... how to say it, y'know? Didn't really need to be described. It defied simple words. But, more specifically, it was at least a little unbelievable. There was this one podcaster who had put it like that when examining how larger than life characters like Anarchy from the ongoing season straddled and humped and sweat all over a very thin and fine line between being captivating and being fucking annoying

(Lucille, by the way, firmly put Anarchy in the latter category. As if she'd ever be caught dead second guessing her auto-dislike of such a fucking poser, y'know?)

and that was that, while 'everything was larger than life and reality was unrealistic...'.

Something something the rest. Fuuuck. Honestly, she was faultless, like, it had been a long and overly cerebral rant, like most SOTF content was when not subtitled by the DHH translator. She didn't remember what dude had said except if she paraphrased it to the general idea- 'bitches be cray'. So far as she understood it, anyhow.

- ??? : Continued from Heads Will Roll -

There were party favors everywhere, like, holy fuck people had heard 'potluck' as 'bring your entire fridge or we'll all die of starvation on the first night'? 'Invite five, invite the entire depleted stock of Costco'. Lucille was watching the bod so no indulging, but she'd sampled a couple of the things being passed around on plates

(what had happened to stuff, like, good old serving trays and butlers and shit? Not counting Rupert's two left feet bumbling ass prancing around as a butler, anyways)

because heck, she was only mortal herself. The mango salsa was bomb, made her wish she wasn't cutting for another week. But on the bright side, you could totally see her abs through her shirt if she casually flexed a little.

But obviously she wasn't going to do that for anyone here. C'mon, right.

She stared out one of the front windows. It had been a few hours since the last of the party had stumbled in through the front door, and the weather was really starting to pick up in intensity. Nothing had been blown around that hard since the boys locker room incident from last year (friend of a friend said he had the photo evidence but was keeping it on lock for the sake of protecting those involved), as far as Lucille was aware. Kinda neat, watching a trash can dump itself all over the sidewalk of it's own volition, at least before her brain gently nudged to remind her that this happened literally every year.

Looked kind of cooler when she wasn't stuck in her own house though. Less things nailed down through their sheer going-value at auction, right? She took a moment to internally chide the dumb-asses across the street who hadn't emptied their trash before the hurricane hit. Water began to pelt the window with an insistent, primal thrum.

She glanced away, finished up with the set up for her laptop. Other folks had the TV in the main room, anyone who was interested could watch here in the den. She had the screen resolution for the job. Channel 10 ran random throwbacks to old seasons at this hour, and she figured she didn't have anything better to do. Her and whoever else wanted to take a little time to appreciate the simpler things in life.

SOTF-TV. Like Saturday morning cartoons, only these reruns never got lame and dated.

"Yo, anyone else in? It's about to start."

[Wham Yubeesling]

Parties were like a math equation.

Sadly, for Marion, not an easy one. There were quite a lot of variables to think about when placing oneself within them and making a single mistake whilst performing the working out would often cause the whole equation to fall apart. Things like placement within the room, timing, perception of when new things were starting up so that she could join before it got too crowded (by party standards); Marion had to keep all of those at the back of her mind while she skirted the room, lest she miss out on all the opportunities available to her. It wasn’t as if her life depended on whether she got the most out of this party, but…

Well. There was no other way for Marion to put it. It would be extremely lame if she let tonight go to waste.

So she performed the rounds. Went from scene to scene, participating in everything she could. Honestly, even with this weather, this felt like just a regular neighborhood serviceable party. Of course, there were all the emergency rations people had brought lying around, and there was that atypical voice in her head questioning whether mother and Javier and all the others were okay, but those details were easy to push aside. Forget, in the midst of celebration and excess. All Marion had to do was let herself be lulled by the gray and neon siren call, watch from afar as her body was led into the crowd dancing, and let tonight become a blur. Wake up on the floor when sunrise emerged, her head feeling hungover despite the fact that she’d never drunk in her life.

Of course, Marion wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t an option she was interested in, and it would rob her of the options that were to her liking. Namely, what Lucille was doing right now. TV watching. A place to talk without the need to be standing up. A moment to relax and turn her brain off without denying herself of the ability to interact with the rest of this party. An opportunity — and a person — to let her learn more about the show a part of her life revolved around.

Yes. This would do. She walked over. Gave Lucille her best smile.

“Hey! I’m down!”

If Lucille would let her sit down, Marion would sit down — approximately half a foot away from her; close, but not quite touching distance. If Lucille would greet her back, Marion would say hi again — and give a little pithy giggle, if Lucille were to mock her by greeting her twice. If Lucille hugged her as she sat down, Marion would hug back, let it hang for a long while as she closed the gap, let the two’s bodies touch one another for however long Marion was present for. If Lucille didn’t, then that was okay. The two were friends. Proximity was all Marion needed.

Conversation was like a math equation. It was all a matter about working out the question and selecting the correct answer.

[Cicadan]

Lucille would, essentially: let Marion sit down at that you and me, tight like this, fingers-squished together position. And then she'd greet her back, and then Lucille would be like, 'literally, you just said that', and then Marion would giggle. Girl had a cute ass giggle. Then they would hug, and it'd last a good long second, shoulder to shoulder. Fingers-squished together position. Play-by-play of what went down.

Lucille had always gotten the sense that, yknow... in a way? She related to Marion a lot more than was obvious. She'd always mildly teased Marion for being a bit too prim and proper despite somehow being as popular as your average Mangrove slut. Not much FACTS and LOGIC there, ofc, but like... Lucille remembered she'd mentioned it once. It had been some party up in North- the kid had been transferring out, some kinda going-away deal. Marion had been invited, Lucille had not been. How those things usually went. The two of them had been talking in the dregs of those super late hours where the party kept going even though everyone already wanted to go home, it'd mostly just been casual, fashion, streaming, the usual suspect targets.

But Lucille remembered they'd talked about the deeper kinda stuff at some point. Pretty much totally on accident, but Lucille had been pretty impressed with what Marion had said. There was something about it, that New Age type stuff. Patience and discipline. Being strong, but like. Chill. Easy did it. Lucille had trained a little harder in the gym the next day, and the next few weeks after. She'd breathed a little more mindfully.

The hug broke.

"Y'know Virginia brought molly? Actually unironically. Low key amazed Mary's head hasn't exploded yet."

A thoughtful pause, as some smooth voice mattress commercial man finished up rapidly screaming the phone number to call for the hundredth time.

"Dude, like. What are the odds she's got other shit too? Like... fentan... Fenty? Fenty beauty? Whatever the hard stuff is." Lucille casually held out a hand, putting it on the negotiating table along with the rest of her companionable gossip. Lucille honestly liked hand-holding with girls more than dudes? Dudes were awkward and clammy and expected a booty eating or some ish afterwards.

It started up. Some episode... rickety looking house, looked like a desert of some sort. Construction site? For a moment Lucille didn't figure what she was looking at. Glanced at Marion, wondering if she'd recognize it first. Then the awkwardly gangly, damp patch sticky shirt Asian chick came into focus, up against a wall in front of the camera with a clean-shaven pretty boy holding one of her hands with both his own. Ew, gross.

Wait.

"Oh fuck," Lucille giggled breathlessly, almost instinctively shutting the laptop screen. "Bitch, it's the Thirty Two sex scene!" Or had there been like, more than one in the season? But this was the first one, anyways. Lucille still remembered the memes that had been passed around on YouTube when she'd been, like, running around at school waiting impatiently to chill with Demarcus, stealing glances at her phone under the desk when she was sure the teacher didn't know or didn't care. The edit compilations. George... something, whatever the girl's name was

(really hadn't been a memorable season tho)

fucking clips interspliced with lightsaber duels, Gangnam Style, other kinda really-unfunny-in-hindsight shit.

"Do you, uh, think we should be watching this?" On screen dude and chick talked. Close faces, closer lips. Look at 'em go, talking desperately between eating each other's stank breath.

[Polybius]

This party had come at the perfect time. Dad was off in Chicago doing important things or whatever and when the hurricane was coming it looked like Alyssa would have to spend all day locked up with Mom. They'd just be sitting in that space, not talking, and eventually Alyssa would feel like screaming or pulling her fingernails out to distract herself from the silence. But Mary threw this cool party! So she could be here, and her fingernails would be fine. Perfect timing - well, it was a hurricane party, so... Alyssa supposed it wasn't perfect timing. One just went with the other. She was never in danger. It was- it was- like smoke and fire. Always together.

Speaking of together, wasn't Marion here? She was talking with this guy and this girl and this other guy and the first guy was talking about his dad's boat and Marion came by and- she was standing there, Alyssa was sure of it. But as Alyssa looked back and forth, she couldn't see her friend. Where was she now?

Alyssa excused herself from the conversation - well, she probably hadn't said anything for the past few minutes anyway, but - she excused herself, and she went looking around. People were packed together chatting, laughing, dancing. Looking around the room, taking the whole totality of the party into her senses, was a bit of an overload. Alyssa found herself drifting to another room. This was a big house, much bigger than her apartment. She could imagine it being like a giant cave, with more and more caverns the deeper she went.

Thankfully, she didn't have to go very deep, because Marion was right here in this room! Lucille was here too, which was a pleasant surprise. Alyssa jogged over to where they were sitting.

"Heyyyyy." Alyssa drew out the greeting as she plopped down between the two. The movement ended up being a bit too fast, so she held her into Marion's side to steady herself for a moment before she could sit upright. "What're you doing over here."

It was then that she noticed the bright rectangle Lucille had been looking at. There was a video of two dirty teenagers were getting close with each other.

"Eh, what's this?"

[Wham Yubeesling]

The routine played out. Marion sat down. She and Lucille said hi. Lucille made Marion give her pithy little giggle and then the two hugged. It was instinctual. Synergistic. The two had similar patterns and that meant that interaction was automatic. Non-calculated. The conversation continued to how Virginia had brought drugs and it took so little time to respond that Marion hadn’t even internally written her response down. It was something about Mary — how she felt a little sorry that people were skirting up to the edge of her established rules, and hoping that her party would go well regardless. The actual subject of drugs was more something to note in her internal dossier of Virginia — until now Marion did not know she was the type of person who did those sorts of things.

It was routine, though. Easy. Marion could stay talking about drugs with Lucille all night and still be capable of doing it.

The same could not be said for what happened next. The TV showed the two of them two near-naked teenagers about to engage in sex and it was like she wasn’t allowed to look. Her head turned very quickly and she was now looking at Lucille again, eyes unaware of the hand between the two.

“Um…”

She was lucky that Alyssa had come to save her by joining their group. Theoretically, Alyssa should not have been able to sit between the two of them — given how there was only a hand’s worth of space in the place she wished to occupy — but Marion made it work. She moved. Schooched over a little bit so that Alyssa had room, and then attacked her with a hug. Squeezed her tight.

“Heyyy,” Marion said, her voice becoming slightly more like the pale, birdlike yellow that Alyssa generally spoke with. “We’re just watching, um…”

She looked at the TV and then immediately looked back. Kept holding on to the hug. Found Alyssa’s shoulder a far preferable space to place her face.

“...Stuff.”

She brought her eyes up to look past the person past Alyssa’s neck. Tried to beckon Lucille to hug her too. Absorb Alyssa. Brainwash her with love and cuddles until she had no choice but to become a part of their horde.

...She giggled to herself. The mental image was just so fun.

[Cicadan]

"Yup. Stuff." As in, somehow totally legal porn.

Or maybe Lucille was exaggerating it? She remembered it'd been totally edgy and X-rated back when she'd been younger and everyone had been gossiping about it on Facebook where the uptight teachers couldn't disapprovingly recite Colossians 3:5 and lock them in the classroom for recess. But everything was naughty and dirty when you were an awkward eleven year old, even a bit of a pec flex. Dude... it was probably fine. Like, there were still child porn laws and stuff, right? Even the TV execs couldn't just broadcast that completely uncensored?

(ew, that one liner though. Suave cool guy voice: 'We're gonna make it out of here together. I'll carry you out if I have to.' Bitch, please! They wished they were smart enough to pull off an escape! News flash: teams weren't a thing until the Lord's year of 2-0-2-0!)

"But bitch, heyyyy. Betcha didn't think I'd show."

That was said at Alyssa. Lucille liked her a lot actually- girl had her back on the hard sets when they were using the school gym. She was cool without being a know-it-all or a poser. Lucille actually remembered this one time- some loser underclassman had hinted Alyssa was actually an alcoholic legit, not just pounding drinks at parties to chill. Said she knew a graduated senior who'd hit on her while drunk- as if that story checked out? Lucille had told the bitch to suck her D, (trans rights!) cause fuck if she was gonna spread slander about a friend. There was a good rumor and there was just being shitty, and that kinda trash needed a dog scooper to pick up after it, y'know?

Marion was gesturing for the hug to become a threesome, but Lucille just crinkled her brow, an awkward and pained smile her rebuttal. Like, seemed like a bit much to mob Alyssa, y'know? Nothing wrong with it per say but Lucille wanted to wait until after Marion was done trying to DBZ fuse before she jumped in. With a solid arm over one shoulder, sis gym life style.

"Shit." Lucille leaned her head a bit into Alyssa, side by side they were. "You watch TV, Alyss?" Lucille legit forgot, fuck. Some friend she was.

"We can turn it off and chill, anyways: this season's trash."

"So... so it'll just be like normal. N-no killing." The girl looked up at him with doe eyes, hopeful.

"... Yeah. Nothing will change, trust me. It's like we're still home. Still..." He got closer. "Still safe." And swooped in, his hands suddenly hauling up her shirt.

The camera cut to an angle- the outside of a home now, or what was left of it when one wall had partially caved in. Two dudes stood in front of the door with heavy, powerful looking guns almost as tall as their entire leg loosely held in their hands. Both fairly ripped and tall, one with a tight cropped buzzcut, the other with gorgeous scruffy blonde hair. Suddenly, a weak girl's moan broke the silence of the scene, coming out of the house behind them. They glanced at each other, shrugged silently.

"... They're kinda hot though. Don't think: which dude do you pick?"

[Polybius]

Alyssa leaned into her Marion's embrace. She put her arm around her friend, gently placing her hand on Marion's back. It was warm, cozy. Whatever worries she'd had the second before were smothered. She kinda felt she could drift off to sleep there, with Marion's arms around there. Just rest in that complete comfort for days and days and days, never moving. Mary might get mad, though.

However, the feeling was lost when Lucille started talking. Alyssa realized that they were watching SOTF, and the comfort was pulled away and replaced by a creeping fear. She didn't like it, at all. She didn't want to see what went on in that show. The hand she had on Marion's back tightened, her fingers pressing into the fabric.

"Uh... I..." she was looking at the screen, for some reason. Why was she looking? But, it didn't seem like they were gonna kill each other. It looked like they were gonna... do it. She relaxed a little bit at that.

"N-no. We can watch it." Alyssa said, giving Lucille a reassuring smile. She would be fine if they were just having se- okay, it was still weird. But not so bad. No reason for her to cause a scene and make Lucille upset.

So she stared at the scene playing out, only to be shocked again when the scene cut to a couple of boys holding weapons. Oh God, this wasn't going in a good direction. Lucille's voice was coming through her ears, and her distraction made her take a few seconds to put the words together.

"Oh, the blonde one. Definitely." she finally said, before hastily adding "So, uh, what's gonna happen here?"

[Wham Yubeesling]

Marion had made the very solemn decision that Lucille was no longer her friend. That statement was hyperbole, of course — while not her closest friend Lucille was certainly very valued — but even outside of the overacted betrayal which was her refusing to consume Alyssa Marion had to admit that she wasn’t particularly happy with how they were continuing to watch what they were currently watching. Perhaps Marion’s reaction hadn’t been profound enough to communicate that the idea of watching two dead teenagers have sex wasn’t something all so enthusing, but surely Lucille knew that sex, at least personally, was icky, correct? She wasn’t the type of person who found joy in pushing buttons she very well knew not to press, right?

Marion very much wished as such. It seemed as if the others wished to watch this and she, at the very least, knew not to press, so she would just stay where she was. Allow herself to relax further inside Alyssa. Consider her question — note how its phrasing allowed Marion a way out of this discussion if she could figure out an adequate answer for it — but eventually shake her head internally and stay where she was.

“I think some of my Twitch chat said I wouldn’t like this scene?” She said, letting her face scrunch as her primary mode of focus switched from the screen in front of her to the people around her. “They said the end result was too, um…”

[Cicadan]

Blondie was... shit, what was his name actually.

(This really was a demonstrably ass season.)

"I don't remember if the official broadcast was, like that explicit? But the uncut versions they stream online are definitely pretty raunchily edited. Like, pretty close to legit porn."

Another heavy moan. Loud girl. The camera continued to pan over the desolate dustbowl scenery outside the door, as the two young men with their guns remained overtly ignorant of what was happening in the house they were guarding. Nice dramatic framing of the scorching noon sun's light creating heavy ominous shadows over the cheap faux pueblo facade of the walls.

"If anyone even streams this season willingly," A lip curled as she scoffed. "Pretty dumb, I guess." Lucille shrugged. Marion had expertly dodged around the question, tires screaming swerving shit. Nobody on this couch seemed too interested in watching the rest of it, and that was inclusive of herself. For sure. Her eyes were already glazing over.

"Dude with the buzz is more my speed, FYI. Something about how serious he looks, I guess. But the eyes are so pretty, y'know?" Lucille shrugged, leaning to one side and with a support elbow draped over the arm of the couch. Away from the other two, as she busily contemplated getting up at the laziest speed possible. A formative vision of switching off the stream... very much not becoming a visual iteration of reality.

"This sucks. We can watch something else."

Whoops, that was definitely a boob.

[Polybius]

Alyssa should have looked away from the screen. If she was smart, she would have done that. But the smart part of Alyssa's brain was very small to begin with and had been drowned in all the stuff she'd done done so all that was left was the big, fat, dumb part of her brain that made her stare at Lucille's laptop like she was a deer in headlights that was about to get smashed to bloody piece.

Marion and Lucille both said things. Alyssa heard the phrase "watch something else", which was enough to snap her out of her stupor.

"Yes!" she exclaimed "Let's watch something else... like... like..."

What did people watch aside from this horrible show? What did she watch? It was hard to think under pressure.

"Youtube things..." she finished, quietly.

Alyssa leaned back, further into Marion. She reached her arm around to clasp her hand onto Marion's.

[Wham Yubeesling]

“Are you sure this isn’t explicit?”

It was quite like an epiphany when Marion figured out why specifically Lucille kept trying to show them whatever this was. While the initial theory was something in regards to buttons — and whether Lucille liked to push them or not — it seemed more clear now that this was more a case regarding boundaries than anything else. While Marion’s boundaries regarding the topic of sex and alcohol and general hedonism were particularly rigid, for example, perhaps Lucille’s viewpoints in regards to the exact same topic were considerably less so. That was not to say that Lucille generally tended to those things — loathe be that Marion judge others for the choices they elected to make; it was not as if she had the right to determine how others lived their lives — but perhaps she was more okay with the discussion of said topics, and assumed that everybody else around her had the exact same opinion she had.

Which was a fine enough mistake to make. It was one that was currently causing Marion… particular discomfort, but it was a simple enough complication to fix. Just agree with the notion to change the feed to something else, remind her that not everybody viewed sex the same way she did, and the equation would be solved and the conversation would go the exact way Marion would like it to.

“I would… appreciate it if you did that, yes. I’m not particularly comfortable with what I’m watching.”

What was particularly comfortable, however, was Alyssa’s action of bringing her own arm around Marion, so that the two almost looked like they were holding hands. The counter-action was simple — almost rehearsed, in how many times she’d done it. She moved her own head to the right so that Alyssa’s head had as much space on her left shoulder as possible. There was usually another step where she stroked her hand through the hair of whatever friend wished to use her as a pillow — let them know that they would be perfectly fine and comfortable staying exactly where they were — but currently she was indisposed doing something else.

It didn’t particularly matter, however. The sight was already clear. Alyssa — however drunk she was — found comfort in Marion, and if she were willing to continue her acquiescence, then Marion was sure she would find cosiness as well.

[Cicadan]

"I said I didn't know dude!"

(She didn't remember if she'd said that though, as if that was gonna stop her.)

Lucille was grinning. Difficult to tell what portions amused and embarrassed, shaken or stirred. There was a clumsy tisk, and a clumsier grab at the laptop that almost sent it falling off the table she'd balanced it on top of. When there was like, plenty of space between it and the edge. Clumsy much? To be fair to herself, this wasn't the sort of reflex she trained when she did footwork drills. She still had her combatant edge, her edge just wasn't designed for quickly seguing out of

(increasingly definitely)

underage heavy petting scenes. Now if that laptop had a face she could punch...? She gottem, for sure. Lucille pulled herself off the couch, took a knee in front of the laptop so she could get it closer some way if she couldn't do it the normal way with her hands fumbling harder than Junji's would the first time he'd ever get a chance to take off- to fail to take off- a bra

(so more specifically, sometime never)

and she successfully tabbed out into a YouTube page. Okay, mission accomplished. Lucille glanced back, noting that the two of them were cuddling. Cute AF couple, actually. She'd endorse it if it were at all true.

"Any suggestions?"

Lucille's YouTube had like, pages of recommendations for more SOTF content. Podcasts and analysis and stuff. She scrolled idly to check. She needed to for, like, ten seconds before the first not-SOTF video, a Arzuaga runway from 2013- appeared.

[Polybius]

Alyssa nestled into Marion's shoulder, shutting her eyes. She was always nice and soft. Welcoming. There whenever Alyssa was overwhelmed with the weight of the world, always pressing down. Slamming against her ribcage over and over trying to finally break it. But she was safe here. Nothing trying to crush her but love. Heheheh.

Lucille said something again and Alyssa's eyes snapped back open. The SOTF was gone. Her prayers had been answered, somehow. She didn't know why, but she was thankful. Lucille was asking for suggestions. It took Alyssa a few seconds to realize what she was asking, as she saw Lucille's laptop open to the front page of YouTube.

Alyssa's eyes drifted to the ceiling, wondering how she would answer. She mostly just watched makeup and beauty videos, but they were going through some drama again so she hadn't felt like looking at the website much recently. What else was there? Hmm...

"Animals." she said dreamily.

[Wham Yubeesling]

The hypothesis that Lucille simply had no idea of what the proper boundaries were for this sort of thing grew less and less likely for Marion the more and more the smile grew on Lucille’s face. Perhaps it was more incidental — the idea that Lucille found this funny being more because she was caught off guard rather than this being some sort of calculated plan — but the way she was laughing about all of this made Marion feel as if Lucille was finding some sort of thrill in how she was slapsticking her laptop.

It wasn’t all that much of a problem, though. Just so long as Lucille elected to show… different sorts of scenes to others in the future, then Marion didn’t particularly feel the need to say anything more. She instead decided to focus on Alyssa, as she took Marion’s offer to sleep on her shoulder. Glance at her, for a few seconds. Determine whether she was drunk. Consider broaching the question of whether Alyssa would want a drive home if the diagnosis came back with positive. Leave the matter alone and assume her friend was just being her friend if the result was, in fact, negative.

Respond to Lucille, in the meantime. Try to give her better ideas.

“I’m down with whatever you want,” she said, to the both of them. She was pretty sure Lucille wanted to stick to watching highlights from previous seasons, but animal videos also seemed like a good idea. Marion had no particular preferences.

[Cicadan]

"Well with any luck I won't land us on something inappropriate from the animal kingdom," Lucille mumbled more to herself, loud enough that everyone could still overhear, here in their intimate corner of Mary's... was this her living room? It wasn't the room with the TV but it also wasn't the room with the place where someone could eat- unless they wanted to stain the couch. Like, who knew. Lucille continued to breathlessly smile to herself, maybe kinda frazzled still but she wouldn't have said out loud

(or like, at all because she was only reluctantly contemplating the idea)

that she'd been caught off guard like that. It was just a one-off, Lucille being a bit too vaporwave-y and having put her alertness aside for a moment too long.

But a search of 'cute animals' later got a choice looking panda cub wandering a pen hour plus long cam. Looked like a no-brainer, right? No way something with a thumbnail that unreasonably soft and cuddly could possibly turn into teenagers shooting each other and getting tastefully critiqued by Butler or all the rest of all of Lucille's favorite podcast personas. For sure. And Lucille's YouTube history probably needed slightly less TV biasing the algorithm, anyhow.

Lucille left the video running, and left her friends

(totally friends, if you asked her)

with her laptop for a moment, skipping out to grab something to eat from Mary's prepper-tier overstocked warehouse.

((And that was the end of her notable adventures at that party.))