Autocorrect is a witch, isn’t it.

We never drink too much. And there’s barely any alcohol in the drinks they serve here. But that’s enough to get us dangerously disinhibited.

What else to talk about in a nightclub but your favorite video games?

Nerd or pro? Or both? What I know is, the game is less than three years old, and I only have a thousand hours clocked myself.

I blame that one last drink for the finger guns. Terrible, terrible imitation of the in-game guns, Azalea.

The flirt don’t stop.

… Oh hai Romain.

Sometimes, when you’re absolutely busted, you gotta accept it. And talk about Maths. Or Physics. Or anything, really.

At least until everyone’s distracted again.