"Show me show me show me," Delia said excitedly, like a child, as Burnie slowly pulled a red velvet bag from inside his coat and slid out a long glass bottle. Delia took it in her hands with such carefulness, like holding a newborn baby, her eyes wide with awe; she finally managed to speak again, "where...where did you-"

"When my wife and I got married, her father gave me that," Burnie said, "he knew I appreciated wine-"

"That's a fancy way of acknowledging your alcoholism," Flo said, standing beside him, her arms folded.

"-so he gave me this as a symbol of welcoming me into the family," Burnie said, "he likes wine himself, so."

"What's so special about this bottle, I don't get it," Preston said, leaning against a nearby tree.

"It's been out of production for a number of years now," Delia said, taking the mantle from Burnie and explaining, "so that makes it fairly sought after. They said they would resume production, but another company bought the people making it, and it's never returned to shelves. You've never once opened it?"

"Nope," Burnie said, "this is a charity event, I figured I'd let someone buy it and-"

"I'll buy it, right here, right now," Delia said, surprising them all.

Burnie chuckled, reached for the wine and took it, slipping it back into the velvet bag for stuffing it gently back inside his coat pocket.

"I appreciate your gusto, I do, but I brought it for the event, Delia," Burnie said, "this thing could bring a lot of money to the charity and-"

"500 dollars," Delia said, pulling her checkbook from her purse.

"...can I have 500 dollars?" Flo asked.

"For what?" Delia asked as she looked through her purse for a pen.

"I don't know. Being cool?"

"I'll pay you twenty bucks to not ask me for more money," Delia said.

"Deal," Flo replied.

"Delia, slow your roll, okay? Let's get inside first, see how the event goes, and then, you know, if you're lucky maybe you'll be the one to buy it," Burnie said as he turned on his heel and started heading indoors, Delia nipping at his trail as Flo and Preston followed closely behind. As they entered the building, it became clear to them that this was an event none of them - even Delia at her finest - was likely meant to be seen at. The Highlands Charity Wine Tasting was always a gala event, a who's who in the wine tasting community. Needless to say, the kinds of people who came to this on the regular were not the kinds of people this group was. Delia was the closest they got, and even she wasn't in high enough social standing to be considered.

In fact, the only way they even managed to get in this year was because several years prior Delia had put them on a waitlist, and their names finally came up, so now was their time to attend. That being said, since they didn't know anyone and weren't formally invited, they were all seated together, not that they minded. They were sort of friends, after all. Heading into the large banquet hall and then through the crowd to the smaller auction area where the charity event would take place proper, Burnie couldn't help but feel just a little bit smug about his addition to the charity. The group headed through the doorway to the smaller auction area, when Flo grabbed Preston's arm and stopped him.

"What?" he asked, sounding annoyed, until he noticed her pointing at something in a neighboring room.

The room in question was one filled with items, and three people around their age all laughing and having shots. Flo and Preston headed inside the room and approached the table, where one of the women turned and smiled at them upon their arrival.

"Hi," she said enthusiastically.

"Hey," Preston said, "what's going on in here? What is all this stuff?"

"This is the tier 2 charity items," the woman said, nodding towards the pile, "this is the stuff that they let the other members fight over if we don't wanna join the bidding war in the main hall."

"What are you guys doing in here?" Flo asked.

"We're playing Sloshing," the man in the room said as he poured yet another shot in each of the girls glass, "see, the rule is that I have multiple unlabled bottles of wine, and whoever guesses correctly gets to pick from the pile. Each correct guess constitutes a prize. You guys want in?"

Preston and Flo glanced at one another, then shrugged, nodding. This seemed more their speed anyway than a stuffy old auction.

                                                                           ***

The auction always had dinner beforehand.

Sitting in the main hall, together at the table, Delia and Burnie were eating their prepared meals; grilled chicken salad with a wine of their choosing to be paired with it. Something light yet filling was the idea, get their brains moving but not get them so bogged down in afterdinner sweats that they couldn't focus on the auction that came next. Sitting there, Delia couldn't keep her eyes from wandering back to the velvet satchel sitting on the table beside Burnie while he ate. As he lifted more chicken and lettuce to his lips, he smirked.

"Hey," he said through a mouthful of dinner, "you can stop the oggling, okay?"

"...I just want it," Delia admitted, "I can't help it."

"Yeah, well, you and likely everyone else in this room," Burnie said, "outbid 'em."

"You know I don't have that much," Delia whispered angrily.

"You offered me 500 just outside," Burnie replied, laughing.

"I was desperate!" Delia snapped back, "Come on Miller, I'll babysit for a year. You and your wife could have some alone time and-"

"Delia, drop it," Burnie said sternly, now sounding genuinely annoyed as he asked her to pass the parmesean, which she did, but only with the level of a child throwing a quiet temper tantrum. Burnie took the container and started to shake it over his plate when someone approached and patted him on the shoulder. They both looked up to see a tall, thin, black man in his early 40s smiling down at him. Burnie grinned and reached up, shaking his hand.

"I was wondering if I'd see you," the man, Marvin, said.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too!" Burnie said, "please, sit down and join us."

Marvin nodded, reached for a chair from a nearby table and dragged it over, seating himself between the two of them. Marvin cleared this throat, then spoke, his voice low.

"You do know what's going on, right?" he asked, causing a look of concern to flash across both Burnie and Delia's faces.

"No?" they replied in unison.

"Some rich son of some famous wine family is offering a certain amount of money for everything here," Marvin said, "this auction is a total sham this year. Everything's already bought and paid for. When people bid, and win because they have to keep the illusion alive, they'll simply be reimbursed after the fact in private. So whatever you might've brought...you might not wanna let them have it."

Burnie and Delia exchanged a glance of panic.

"Well," Burnie said, scratching his cheek, "but...why is-"

"Because the family is cutting an enormous check," Marvin said, shrugging, "just business man."

"Why are you telling us this?" Flo asked.

"You I don't know, so I'm actually just telling him. You're just in proxy. And I'm telling you," he said, now looking at Burnie, "because last year, you informed me about a fake bottle being passed around, and when the opportunity came to me to purchase it, I declined because of the information you gave me, so now we're even."

Marvin stood up and patted Burnie on the shoulder again, smiling, as he took his leave. Burnie and Flo sat there, in almost stunned silence, before Burnie threw down his utensils in frustration, rubbing his face and groaning.

"Can I..." Delia mumbled, "can I buy it now?" she asked.

                                                                              ***

"....white cherry, aged in wood," Flo said, smacking her lips.

A small cheer erupted amongst the little group, as she grinned and walked over to the pile to pick something out. After a moment of searching, she tagged her name on a nice toaster, and then came back to the group, who were now giving Preston a shot of something. Preston took a long sip, then sloshed it around in his mouth momentarily, making a puzzled look on his face before finally swallowing and thinking.

"Uh..." he said softly, "that's...that's definitely Peach...but...there's something else," Preston said, scratching his head, "just gimme a moment."

"Take all the time you need," one of the women said, grinning.

"Peach, but what is it aged in," Preston mumbled, "it's...it's not wood...that would be obvious. It's almost like..." he tasted his tongue again and thought hard, furrowing his brow, "...it's almost like pottery of some kind. Like a large stone vase. It's Clay! Clay, Amphora!"

The group cheered again and Flo and Preston had a high five as Preston went to get his own name tagged on a prize while one of the women took her turn. When Preston returned next to Flo, he grinned at her.

"Nice guess, man," Flo said, "I'm genuinely impressed."

"Yeah, so am I," Preston said, laughing, "I actually only recently learned about that type of aging."

Flo had said she was genuinely impressed, but she wasn't just saying it to be complimentary, she truly was genuinely impressed. Preston had always seemed like the odd one out amongst the four of them, coasting by on daddy's money and mommy's adoration. He didn't work, he didn't have any real kind of responsibilities, and all he did for fun was attend these wine tastings with the group, so Flo had always sort of looked on him as a poser of sorts, but...she was beginning to see he really did know his shit. And she liked what she saw. Maybe they could be better friends, really.

                                                                                ***

"This sucks," Burnie mumbled, the two of them still sitting at their table, having finished eating and now awaiting for the auction to begin.

"This does suck," Delia said, "and dinner wasn't even that good. Isn't there something we can do?"

"I don't think so," Burnie said, "I could pull back my offering maybe, but I'm sure that'd piss people off. Pulling an item from a charity auction? That shows bad blood. I could never show my face at an event again."

"Should've let me buy it," Delia said, and Burnie soured.

"I mean they already knew I was bringing it, so if I then let you buy it, I'd catch flack for that," Burnie said, "...fuck."

Delia and Burnie sat there, trying to rack their brains to come up with some sort of idea they could conjure to save their beloved bottle, but sadly, it just appeared there was no way out. The bottle was going to be 'auctioned' and it would be given to one person without anyone else getting a chance to fight for it. This disgusted them both to an insane degree. It's one thing to write a large check, but to then get gifts in return for it - things that were meant to be bought by anyone willing to pay the price - was just a whole other level of sickening greed mongering.

"What if we wrote a bigger check?" Delia asked.

"...like we have the money, you just admitted you didn't even have the 500 you were willing to pay me," Burnie said, half laughing, "now you're gonna drop a bundle like a rockafeller? Gimme a break, Dels, it's over. We just need to accept it."

Delia sighed and looked at the velvet bag again, and shook her head.

"We can't let this happen," she said.

"We don't have a choice," Burnie replied.

"If we tell everyone ahead of time, then-"

"Delia, NO. Marvin put his butt on the line to tell me, okay? If I start spreading that like the gospel, all three of us will be basically disbarred from the community," Burnie said, "I can't lose access to this hobby, or its events. It's all I've got right now.

Just then they noticed Flo sitting herself in the chair Marvin had been using, seeming slightly tipsy, but grinning like a fool.

"Where have you been?" Burnie asked, like a worried father.

"Playing a game called Sloshing. Preston and I both won a bunch of free stuff; all the secondary items that weren't good enough for the main auction wound up being up for grabs through this game," Flo said, "why are you guys so sad looking? I mean, I know why you are normally, but you look even sadder than usual."

Burnie and Delia looked at one another, an idea forming in their brain.

                                                                            ***

His name was Eric Dwyers, and he was, by all accounts, just in this community for the benefits it brought and not an appreciation of the culture or the wine. He was young, mid twenties, with perfect short blonde hair and a winning smile, the kind of man you often see in underwear ads in high class fashion magazines. But there was one thing Eric didn't have; oh sure, he had his family's money, and with that access to the sleaze and fame it brought, but he didn't have knowledge. He was just there to cash in. That's where Eric differed, and it would prove to be his downfall.

The gang, through Marvin, sought Eric down in a small back room, where he and some girls - clearly women he'd paid to come with him - were seated, drinking and laughing. As they stood outside the room, Burnie sighed and turned to the others.

"Alright," he said, "here's how it does. We don't even want the other stuff, yeah? Screw everyone else. We say anything about this, we'll be cast out anyway, so right now all that matters is the safety of my bottle. Preston, I've heard you're remarkably perceptive when it comes to guessing tastings, so now's your time to shine, buddy."

Preston nodded, though, truth be told, he was a tad scared he wasn't going to be good enough for it. Burnie knocked on the door, and when prompted to enter, he did, the group behind him. Upon seeing Eric, everyone was both somehow surprised and unsurprised. One of the models hanging off his arm, a girl with pale skin and long dark brown hair, looked at them as they entered, and locked eyes with Flo, who quickly averted her eyes.

"Hello," Burnie said, reaching out to shake Eric's hand, "I'm Burnie Miller. Um, listen, this is going to be a strange proposition, I understand that, but I brought a bottle for the auction. It's a bottle I got during my wedding, it's an out of production wine, but upon learning that you were simply buying all the stuff anyway and the auction was a sham, I figured, why not make this a little more interesting."

"I like interesting," Eric said, leaning forward, "I'm listening."

"So," Burnie said, "for all the secondary items, this group out there created a little game called Sloshing, and, uh...we figured you might be interested in doing this for my bottle. Basically we have a wine, you don't know what it is, and you have to guess correctly or you lose the bottle, and we keep it."

Eric nodded, but he was nervous. He was in the company of beautiful women - women he'd paid to come, however - and wasn't about to be made a fool of. He was the son of a billionaire, he wasn't going to take a loss. However, if he refused to participate, he'd look like an outright coward. There really wasn't a good option for him regardless.

"That's...intriguing, certainly," Eric said, "uh...who'll be doing the tasting?"

"That'd be me," Preston said, raising his hand, and Eric smirked.

Eric himself may not be a wine master, but looking at Preston, in his torn jeans and his band-tee, his sunglasses up on his forehead, he figured he certainly had more expertise than this punk did. Suddenly Eric felt much better about his chances.

"Just one bottle? Not best of three or anything?" Eric asked and Burnie smirked.

"Eric," he said, "where's the fun in that? One brings high stakes. Three brings opportunity to be beaten."

Eric nodded, and even Delia smirked. She was impressed by Burnie's ability to call rich peoples bluffs.

"Alright, get pouring," Eric said, standing up and clapping his hands. As they prepared, the girl with the dark brown hair in the yellow dress he'd been seated by stood up and walked across the room, parking herself against the wall beside Flo.

"This is embarrassing," she said quietly, making Flo laugh; she continued, "who are you people?"

"We're the cultural elites worst enemy," Flo said, winking at the woman, who smiled back. After Burnie was done preparing, he handed Eric his shot, handed Preston his shot, and then he and Delia took Preston a bit away for a moment and looked him in the eye.

"Preston," Burnie said, "I've never believed in you."

"Okay, ow," Preston said, "gotta admit, wasn't prepared for that."

"But right now, Flo believes in you. She saw you win at Sloshing multiple times, okay? I know there's a lot to risk losing here, but don't let that bring you down or make you nervous. This kid? He's nothing. He's bupkis. But you? You're the cats pajamas."

"What fucking era are you from?" Delia asked, pulling Burnie away and taking over, looking at Preston, hands on his shoulders and eyes locked with his as she said, "Preston, you can do this. He's just here cause he's paid to be here. He's daddies spoiled little rich boy here to collect, alright? He thinks the world owes him, he thinks everything the light touches is his by birthrite, and tonight, you're gonna prove him wrong."

Preston nodded, grinning. Now THAT was a pep talk, he thought. Preston walked back to the center of the room, standing across from Eric, as Burnie set the velvet bag down on the table between them, indicating it was the prize. After a brief moment of silence, Burnie nodded, and the two men drank. It took a few minutes, both men thinking about it. Erics eyes finally lit up, and he grinned.

"It's definitely just your typical white grape," Eric said, "but..."

He tasted his mouth again, and now began to look concerned.

"It's odd, there's no flavor outside of the wine. Usually the cask will impart some kind of flavoring," he said, "but this is flavorless."

Preston, however, was still thinking, and then he grinned.

"Eric's right," Preston said, "it is just white grape. And it is flavorless. But it's flavorless because it was aged in concret, which allows for micro-oxygenation, which is similar to barrel except that it doesn't impart aromas or flavors."

Burnie grinned, and nodded.

"Sorry Eric," he said, "but Preston's correct."

Eric groaned and sat back down as Burnie picked up his bottle and gave a little salute as he exited the room, Delia right behind him, while Preston waved at Eric.

"It was nice playin' with you," he said, "enjoy your free stuff."

And with that, the gang was out the door, their bottle saved.

                                                                              ***

Sitting in a nearby late night greasy diner, Burnie admired the bottle in his hands, sitting across from Delia, and next to Flo. Delia was seated beside Preston.

"You know," Burnie said, "that was impressive, man. I'm thoroughly impressed."

"I always worry people see me like people see him," Preston said.

"Naw man," Flo said, "you're the real thing. He's just the facade. You actually have knowledge. You just don't dress like an asshole."

As Flo lifted her sandwich to her mouth, Burnie cocked his head and looked at her hand, pointing at it.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's a phone number," Flo said, "...one of the girls he was with gave me her number."

Everyone grinned, and congratulated her. Burnie then finally looked across the table at Delia, who was visually salivating at the bottle. He sighed and handed it to her.

"It's all yours for 500," he said.

"You got a deal," she replied.

Delia whipped out her checkbook, wrote him a check and then took the bottle. As Burnie folded the check and pocketed it in his coats breast pocket, patting it down proudly, Delia uncorked the bottle and poured herself some in her now empty water glass. She toasted them all, then lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long sip before her eyes bugged out and she spit it into her napkin quickly.

"That's fucking vile!" she shouted, everyone in the diner turning to look at her, "I paid 500 dollars for that?! It's like licking rusty nails!"

"Let the buyer beware," Burnie said, laughing.

"You son of a bitch, Miller!" Delia shouted, as the group laughed at her, which only caused Delia herself to crack a smile as they continued somewhat jokingly bickering into the evening. They were the cultural elites worst nightmare, Flo was honest when she said that, but they were also one anothers only company, and frankly, that was more than enough for them.

What's a little sour grapes between friends.

If there was one thing Steven Walton was good at...it was trivia.

That was how he'd wound up on popular TV game show "Guesstimate" and, unsurprisingly, blazed his competitors to ultimately win an all expenses paid trip to a tropical local in the Florida Keys. However, his joy was shortlived, because, as it turned out much to his dismay...his family wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of a vacation. Steven couldn't understand it. Even the night before leaving, when he and his wife, Gayle, were packing to go in their bedroom, she kept making somewhat disparaging comments about the situation.

"I just wish you'd taken into consideration the things the rest of us might've planned," she said, thumping in another pile of clothes into her suitcase, "because I have work obligations, and Laura probably made some kind of plans and-"

"Laura never has plans," Steven said as he tugged some more stuff from the dresser, "and I don't mean that in a derogatory 'our daughter is a loser' sort of way, I just mean she's antisocial and she never does anything. She takes after you in that regard, because outside of work you yourself aren't exactly Miss Popularity."

"Such a charmer," Gayle said as she slammed her suitcase shut and zipped it angrily.

Laura was in fact spending more and more of her time alone, partially because she was, as her father had so eloquently put it, antisocial, but also for reasons her parents never would've fathomed. She'd just turned 15, and she had become enamored with a fellow student in her chess club. A student she'd played against a number of times, who she enjoyed matching with. A student with long auburn hair and the greyest of eyes, named Lindsay. Laura felt so ashamed of herself for these feelings that she instead chose to withdraw further than the typical teenager usually does, and blocked out everything in the world aorund her, instead focusing on reading most of the summer...a plan her father had now unintentionally thrown a wrench into.

But who cares, she thought. She could bring some books on the trip.

And now, sitting in the car on the way to their resort - only about an hour from their predetermined destination at this point - she was indeed doing just that. Reading. Laura had always been able to read in the car, and this was a super power she was grateful for, as it allowed her to ignore things around her that she didn't want to focus on. For example, she could hear her parents talking rather animatedly in the front seat, but she could easily tune it out for the fantasy in her hands, playing inside her head. Her little sister, 7 year old Jasmine, was sitting in the seat beside her, fast asleep with headphones on. Jasmine needed her headphones everywhere she went, or the amount of noises easily overstimulated her.

"I'm just saying," Steven said as he came to a red light and stopped, "you can get some work done remotely from the hotel, but this is supposed to be a vacation. You should relax. When I was a kid, we went on family vacations like this every year, and we've only ever done it twice, and one of them was an absolute disaster. I wanna make good memories with you and the girls before time marches on too fast and the chance is lost."

"That's sweet and all, Steven, it really is," Gayle responded, filing her nails absentmindedly in the passenger seat, the air conditioner blowing her mop of curly tied up orange hair out of her face, "but I've got a high level position, I can't just bail on something for 'family time'. That looks bad to the man upstairs."

"You mean...God?" Steven asked, making Gayle chuckle.

"That's certainly how he sees himself," Gayle said, the both of them laughing now, which made Laura smile.

Laura liked when her parents got along, and lately that had been happening less and less. It seemed her mother was always too stressed over work while her father was too stressed over everything else - he worked from home so he was around the family more - and when they finally got to be together, it often resulted in pithy arguments about nothing that ultimately resolved nothing. After a bit more driving, they stopped at a small diner near the hotel, just to be able to get something to eat since they hadn't eaten since they'd left, and Jasmine in particular was getting grumpy because of the lack of sustenance. She had blood sugar issues, so if she didn't eat regularly, then she could get very angry or sick.

Sitting in the diner booth, beside her mother - her father and Jasmine in the seat opposite them - Laura continued to stay focused on her book to distract herself from the goings on around the restaurant. Or at least she tried to, until her mother yanked it from her hands, slid her bookmark into its spot and said this was not a time for recreation, to which Laura replied, "isn't this a vacation? Aren't those all about recreation?"

To which her folks had no answer. But big surprise.

The adults never seemed to.

                                                                            ***

As the Waltons quickly discovered, "all expenses paid" doesn't necessarily equate to "quality".

Not only was the rental car they'd picked up been shoddy, with a lot of things barely working, but when they finally arrived at the hotel - Blue Dog Hotel to be exact - they found that comfort apparently came at a cost. It wasn't that Blue Dog was a bad hotel, in fact it was pretty okay, it was more that it's the kind of hotel one stays in when the other, more well known, hotels are full up. As their rental car struggled to come around to the front, and a valet stepped forward to take it while a young woman in a bellhop uniform also stepped forward to help get their luggage from the trunk, Steven couldn't believe he'd finally get to have a vacation.

Some would argue his entire life was, in essence, a vacation, because he worked from home, but as anyone who works from home knows, that is not at all the case. Just because your venue is different doesn't mean your workload is.

As the bellhop tugged two of their bags from the back and put them on the cart, Steven decided to help her while his wife took the girls inside. After finishing and shutting the trunk, patting it to let the valet know they were done, the bellhop and Steven turned to face one another. She was a woman around his age, maybe a year or two younger, with jet black short hair and messy racoon style eyeliner. She put her hands on the gold bar on the cart and started to push as they entered the hotel, following his family.

"Been here before?" the bellhop asked.

"No, never, not even to the Keys in general," Steven replied, pulling a stick of gum from his Hawaiian shirt pocket and unwrapping it, popping it in his mouth to chew as they walked, his hands back in his shorts pockets now.

"Why'd you come here instead of literally anywhere else in the world?" the bellhop asked, and Steven shrugged.

"I won a game show," he said, "It wasn't really a choice, as much as it was forced upon us."

"That's very Florida, yes," the bellhop remarked as they came to the elevator. They didn't have to check in, as the game show had already done all that for them, so they could easily just head on up to their room. As they piled into the elevator with Steven's family, he offered the bellhop - whose nametag read Erin - a piece of gum, to which she politely declined before pulling her own pack of gum from her shirt pocket and taking one and saying, "Nicotine gum, trying to quite smoking."

When the elevator came to a halt at their floor, the 5 of them got off and headed down the hall. Laura saw her mother was holding Jasmine's hand and remembered when she'd been small enough to have her hand held like that, and felt oddly jealous. Things had been so much easier then. She hated being the age she was. They came to a stop at the door, where Steven pulled the rooms keycard from his pocket and slid it through the metal knob, allowing them entrance.

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call down to the front desk for any and all needs," Erin said in the most flat, monotone voice one could muster as she pushed their luggage cart inside, "because here at Blue Dog Hotel we strive to make your vacation blah blah blah blah blah tip me."

"Well, with such an earnest and heartfelt delivery like that, how could I not?" Steven asked, making Gayle laugh as she walked past him and entered the room. Steven dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her a ten, much to her surprise. Erin smiled, thanked him and then left. Steven turned to his family, clapped his hands together and smiled as they all sat on the beds, obviously exhausted.

"So," he said loudly, "Who wants to have some fun!?"

                                                                             ***

The hotel room was actually a suite.

Laura wasn't old enough to have her own room, exactly, so instead they got a connecting suite. That was the only stipulation the Waltons had when it came to making the plans, was they requested a suite so the girls could have their own space and the parents their own. Laura got her things together and, along with her sister and her sisters things, unpacked in the suite. The girls room even had two beds, so they didn't have to share, which was nice because Jasmine needed her own sleeping space. She had to be completely constricted when being in bed, which was something Laura just couldn't handle.

As Jasmine sat on the bed with her noise cancelling headphones, watching cartoons on the TV on mute with the subtitles on, Laura - who'd finished unpacking - walked over to the window and pulled the blinds down a little, peering out and spying a pool, which was nearly empty. Laura walked back to the door connecting the two rooms and opened it, heading through to find her parents also putting things away.

"Dad?" Laura asked as she entered, "Can I go down by the pool? There's like nobody there."

"Yeah, sure, we can see it from our window too, so it's fine," Steven said, "just be careful."

Laura smiled and nodded, taking off through their door, leaving the connecting door open so they could check on Jasmine, who, in all likelihood, was going to nap anyway. Laura headed down the stairs and exited the back until she came to the large pool, where she embraced the silence and emptiness. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad vacation after all. Laura sat down and, kicking off her shoes, dipped her legs into the water, her shorts only reaching her upper thigh so she could put as much leg as she wanted in anyway. Laura shut her eyes and smiled, enjoying the solitude, when she heard someone sit down beside her and also dip their legs in the water. Taken by surprise, Laura's eyes snapped open and she looked to her side to see a girl about her age, with short sandy blonde hair and big teeth smile at her.

"Hi," the girl said, "I hope it's okay to sit here."

"It's okay, you just scared me."

"Sorry," the girl replied, "I've been known to have that effect on people."

"...is your family staying here too?" Laura asked, and the girl nodded.

"Mhm. We come here every year," the girl responded, "I'm Hannah Waters. We always come here for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" Laura asked.

"Well, not for another few days, but yeah," Hannah said, shutting her eyes and relaxing, feeling the brisk pool water cool her skin on her legs before adding, "...It's my most favorite place in the world, I love it."

"Is there a particular reason? Cause so far it's not impressing me, though I've only been here for about an hour," Laura said, making Hannah laugh, which made Laura blush. She liked Hannah's laugh; soft and almost musical, she couldn't help but be delighted by hearing it.

"Well, when I was little, my Grandma lived out here, so I visited a lot, but now that she's gone we just come here cause it's so familiar. Feels like being with Grandma, ya know?" Hannah said, "What's your name?"

"Laura," Laura said, smiling as her eyes ran down to Hannah's smooth bare legs, admiring them before feeling embarrassed and looking anywhere else.

Suddenly, from somewhere across the yard, Hannah's name was called. She quickly sprung up.

"I have to go, I was just supposed to be getting a soda!" she said, "Bye!"

And with that Hannah shot off across the yard to god knows who. Laura stayed there for a while longer, just soaking her legs in the pool, blushing and feeling so strange. She hated this. She hated these feelings. All the other girls in her class talked about the boys they liked, and she could never participate. She wished she could be like all the other girls she knew her age. But then...that'd mean never liking girls the way she did.

And that wasn't something she was eager to lose either.

Life as a closeted teenager sure was frustrating.

                                                                           ***

The Waltons ate dinner at the hotel restaurant that night, a placed called The Doghouse - everything in this hotel seemed dog related - and sitting there at the table with her parents and little sister, Laura couldn't help but feel like maybe this wouldn't be such a bad vacation after all. Sure she was grappling with some things that she didn't know how to approach just yet, things that were somewhat scary to acknowledge, but overall it could be a lot of fun. However, the restaurant that night just happened to be absolutely packed, and between the noisy crowd and the general overwhelming lighting, Jasmine was already on the verge of losing her shit.

"Do you wanna take her out of here?" Gayle asked, looking at Steven, "She's going to flip out."

"What do I do about the food I ordered?"

"I can have them pack it up and we can take it back to the room," Gayle said, "don't worry about it, just get Jas out of here before it gets on atomic levels."

Steven nodded, standing up and, taking Jasmine by the hand, led her out of the restaurant, leaving just Laura and her mother alone at the table now. Laura nervously played with her utensils, tapping them repeatedly as her mother sipped her drink, waiting for their orders to arrive. Laura eventually looked up to see her mother watching her, smiling warmly. This display of parental affection only made Laura feel more uncomfortable, as she shifted uneasily in her seat.

"Do you like the hotel?" Gayle asked, and Laura shrugged.

"It's...nice," she said, "but I guess I can't really compare, since I haven't stayed at many hotels."

"I guess that's fair," Gayle said, chuckling, "we don't take too many vacations. Maybe your father was right. Maybe we don't do enough family vacations and stuff, and we should-"

And then Gayle's cell phone rang. She fished it from her pocket and answered, her face quickly souring, obviously work related. Laura sighed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Seemed like mom was always on the phone. As Laura looked around the restaurant, she was surprised to see Hannah sitting at a nearby table. When their eyes connected, Hannah waved happily, and Laura, a bit cautious, waved back meekly. Hannah then asked her mom something, before standing up and walking over to the table, tugging at Laura's sleeve. Laura looked at her mom, but knew she wouldn't be finished anytime soon, so she decided to stand up and walk out with Hannah into the hotel lobby.

Once the girls had gotten far enough away from the restaurant, Hanna grabbed Laura's hand and, tugging her behind her, started heading down the hall and around the corner, towards the gift shop. Once inside, Hannah pulled her further into the store to the wall of keychains and finally let go of Laura's hand.

"What are we doing here?" Laura asked.

"I'm looking for my name, duh," Hannah said, "They never have my name in stock."

Laura nodded, and then started digging through the rows with Hannah, determined to help her achieve her goal.

Meanwhile, out in the hall near the candy machine that Steven had pumped a few dollars into to no avail in the quest to attain a treat for Jasmine, Steven couldn't help but feel defeated. So far this trip hadn't been going the way he'd planned. He finally stopped, looked down at Jasmine and shrugged. She didn't reply - in fact, Jasmine rarely spoke, she was mostly nonverbal - and continued to occupy herself with the stim toy in her hands. Steven leaned against the machine and sighed, when he heard a set of footsteps approach from behind. He looked to his side to see Erin standing there, chewing gum.

"That smells surprisingly good," Steven said, grinning.

"Well, it's supposed to mimic nicotine without being nicotine, so in essence you're admitting you like the smell of nicotine," Erin said.

"I used to smoke in college," Steven said, "hey, this machine ate my money, and I was trying to get some candy for my daughter, would you mind-"

Erin looked at Jasmine, then at the machine and nodded. She walked forward as Steven pulled away and, taking the keyring off her belt loop, she plunged the necessary key into the machine and unlocked it. Erin then pulled the door open and reached inside, grabbing a few bags of a few different things and then knelt down and handed them to Jasmine, all while Steven watched, surprised by her softness and generosity.

"I don't know what you like, so I got you a bunch of things," she said, as Jasmine happily took them and thanked her, the first time the whole day she'd actually spoken. Erin stood back up and folded her arms, standing by Steven, the both of them watching Jasmine tear into a bag of Skittles.

"You're good with kids," Steven said.

"I have a sister like that," Erin said, "well, had. Anyway, I know what it takes. Let me know if you need anything else."

With that, Erin patted him on the arm, then walked by Jasmine, patting her on the head and disappearing down the hall. As he watched her go, Steven felt an uneasy lump forming in his gut. Something told him this vacation was going to be worse than he'd been prepared for it to be, and that scared him.

                                                                              ***

Lying in bed that night, Laura couldn't sleep.

She was staring at the ceiling, then rolled onto her side and looked at her little sister, cocooned in her weighted blanket and fast asleep, clutching her favorite stuffed animal to her chest. Laura sighed and climbed off the bed, stood up and headed to the balcony. She looked down towards the pool, and smiled. She'd always liked the sight of a pool in the night. Something about the calm blue water illuminated by the soft lights underwater...it just made her feel totally at ease. Laura looked around, then noticed Hannah walking across the courtyard with her father, both eating ice cream sandwiches, and she felt a twinge of jealousy in her chest. She wanted to be that close to her parents again, but she didn't feel like she could be.

"Laura?"

Laura turned and saw Jasmine sitting up now, looking at her. She re-entered the room and shut the balcony door behind her, locking it.

"What do you need?" Laura asked, sitting down cross legged in front of her sister.

"I had a nightmare," Jasmine whispered.

Laura nodded, laid down and pulled her little sister against her, tugging the blanket up around the both of them. She started petting Jasmine's hair, knowing that always calmed her down.

"Tell me about it, and I'll tell you why you're safe," Laura said.

If there was anyone who knew about living through nightmares currently...it was Laura Walton.

Burnie Miller pulled up in his car - his new electric car that he'd only had for a few weeks - and parked in the lot amongst the other vehicles. He got out of the car, straightened his tie and watched as another car pulled up a few cars away from his and also parked, before Delia Pleek climbed out in a stunning short, tight black dress and her beautiful chocolate brown hair down up in a bun. The twos eyes caught eachother, and the smiled.

"Nice car," Delia said, grabbing her pocketbook from her seat and stuffing it under her arm as she adjusted a bracelet around her wrist.

"It's my new baby," Burnie said, glancing back at his vehicle.

"Sounds like a painful delivery squeezing that thing out," Delia remarked, the two of them chuckling.

"Well, you know, I'll cherish the memories, soon enough they'll be all grown up and off to car college," Burnie said as Delia walked towards him, reached out and adjusted his tie, which made him a bit nervous. After she was finished, she patted it down, then stepped back and, folding her arms, smiled at him.

"You did it wrong," she said.

"You some sort of tie expert now too, in addition to the wine?"

Just then another car came turning into the lot, its tires angrily screeching as it rolled into a spot between the two cars and came to a slow crawl as the drivers side door opened and, stumbling out of it, came Flo (Florence) Stevens . With her braided hair and her dazzling smile matched with her awful fashion sense, she stopped and looked between Burnie and Delia before scoffing and shaking her head.

"What?" Burnie asked.

"You guys willingly chose to park here, they made me park here," Flo said, "that's discrimination."

"How is it discrimination? Because your car is an ugly old beater?" Delia asked as Flo slammed her door shut and adjusted her hat before putting her hands on her hips.

"Yes, exactly, they don't want me bringing down the look of the club," she replied.

"First of all, I don't think you can discriminate against a nonsentient inanimate object," Burnie said, "secondly, I chose to park here because it makes more sense than trusting some teenage valet to haphazardly park my new car that's barely had time for the new car smell to leave it."

"I'll make sure it leaves it if you want," Flo said, "I'll get wine sick and throw up all inside that bitch."

Together, the three of them began heading through the lot, going to the main estate, Burnie and Delia walking closely together, Flo sideyeing them as they did. Flo had long since suspected something had either happened between them or was eventually bound to, but had no definitive proof so she ignored it mostly.

"I like your hat, Florence," Delia said.

"Don't call me by my full name," Flo grumbled.

"It's a compliment, take it," Burnie said, "Lord knows how rarely she gives those out. They're in high demand."

"Oh she can compliment me all she wants, just don't call me by my full name," Flo said.

Just then, coming around the corner and, clearly heading to the lot, came a classic Camero, bright and shiny. Burnie, Flo and Delia stopped and watched as the car came to a crawl beside them and the window rolled down, revealing Preston Plummer, sitting behind the wheel in a leather jacket and sunglasses, a heavy stubble on his face. The three of them stared at him momentarily before Burnie admired the car.

"Wow, slick ride," Burnie said.

"It's my dads," Preston responded quietly.

"What about the leather jacket, that your dads too?" Flo asked, jokingly.

"...yes," Preston whispered, before putting his window back up and driving away towards the lot, the three of them snickering amongst themselves. Flo always knew that, even if she was a fuck up, Preston might be even lamer, and that made her feel better about herself.

                                                                             ***

Ivana Blomp was not someone the group was familiar with, at least personally.

In fact, they'd been trying for years to get into her Wine & Dine event, but it'd always been packed to the gills. However, Burnie had recently done an event with his childrens school, and had befriended Ivana there, and she'd been so impressed by his candor and personality that she openly invited him and his guests to attend this years Wine & Dine. When Flo, Preston and Delia got told they were actually going to be able to go, each one reacted differently - Delia with absolute delight, Flo with indifference, and Preston with curiousity - but all were seemingly excited regardless. Now standing in the foyer of her property, admiring the wine racks on the walls, Burnie couldn't help but feel like this was a dream come true.

"God, I hate high ceilings," Delia said, looking upwards, causing the other three to do the same.

"...yeah, that's way too high," Burnie said.

"Be a good height to hang oneself from," Flo muttered, and everyone looked at her; she shrugged and added, "What? Just a fact."

"Yeah, well, try to keep 'em to a minimum. These are high class people, and we're just people pretending to be high class people. Well, except Delia, she's actually kind of high class," Burnie said as they headed further into the large home, teeming with guests - a wine glass in everyone's hand as was the case with tastings - as Burnie's eyes scanned the room for Ivana. She was tall, lithe, with small shoulders and long sleek bright blonde hair. The usual kind of woman one would see at a runway model show or perhaps a debutant ball. More than anything, his goal was to thank her for the invitation, introduce her to the others, and then spend the remainder of the evening drinking wine.

"Hey, check this out," Flo said, nudging Burnie, who turned to look at the small statue on a little table by the doorway.

"What is it?" Delia asked.

"I've heard stories about this, they call it 'art'," Preston said, making the group chuckle.

"Burnie!" a voice said, as an older balding man in a ash grey suit approached them, his tiny round spectacles bouncing on the bridge of his nose with every step her took.

"Oh god," Burnie mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"Who is that?" Delia asked.

"It's Charlie Fletcher," Burnie said, his voice low, "he's on the local wine tasters association board, he's often one of the people they look to for managing events, finding venues, things like that. He's absolutely insufferable."

"Burnie Miller!" Charlie said, reaching out and shaking his hand.

"Charlie Fletcher, good to see you again," Burnie said.

"You mean that?" Charlie asked, grinning.

"Oh, do I mean it? Then no," Burnie replied, the both of them laughing.

One of the few things Burnie had discovered about the semi-elite after spending quantities of time amongst them at various wine tasting events was that they often too your outright cruelty as ironic humor, and couldn't tell when they were genuinely being insulted. Burnie decided a long time ago to use this to his advantage, to make it easier to be around them and so far it had served him well.

"I didn't know you were coming!" Charlie said, adjusting his bow tie, "this is actually a pretty high profile event, you know? One of the 'bigs' of the season, so I just...I'd never seen you here, so I didn't expect to see you here. How'd you get in? It's tough to get an invite."

"Ivana's daughters go to my kids school," Burnie said, "simple as that. We became cordial, she invited me, and I, in turn, invited my...is it right to call you guys friends?" he asked, turning and looking at them with a look of delight on his face.

"Friends seems a little personal, honestly," Delia said.

"I prefer antagonists," Flo replied, shrugging.

"These are people I...wish I didn't know," Burnie said, the entire group smirking, "so I invited them because they've always wanted to come to this. Do you know where we might get glasses and get started on tasting?"

"Actually, Ivana doesn't serve the good stuff until the meal," Charlie said, "that's the whole idea of 'Wine & Dine', get it? She wanted it to be different from the other tasting events, so she figured she'd pair each tasting with a different dish."

The group stared at Charlie with a look of absolute horror on their face.

"And...and just how many wines are there to taste?" Burnie asked.

"I think this year she's sharing around 17."

"...I'm expected to eat 17 meals?" Flo asked, her voice low.

"They're small dishes, appetizers, and nobody is forcing you to eat them," Charlie said, "it's just the way the event is situated."

"Burnie!" another voice called, and this time they finally saw Ivana approaching them; she was wearing a long, glittering white dress with gold flecks adorning it, her hair done up in a neat bun, her makeup flawless, likely done by a professional hours beforehand; as she reached them and shook his hand, she said, "Um, there's a situation. I don't have enough room for everyone. Because your invite came so late, and because you invited people, one of your party is going to have to be seated elsewhere."

"Like the kids table?" Preston asked, as Flo smacked him in the arm.

"What kind of wine tasting event has a kids table?" she hissed, as he reached up and rubbed his arm where she'd hit him.

"I don't know, a house full of drunks at Thanksgiving?" Preston responded.

"Please, discuss amongst yourselves which of you will be okay sitting table adjacent," Ivana said, "I have to go make sure everything is almost ready."

As Ivana left, Charlie also said goodbye and followed after her, leaving the group alone. Burnie turned and faced the other three, all of whom looked at one another, none of them exactly eager to volunteer to sit away from everyone else, which meant that it would come down to their usual way of making a decision...Short Cork. This had ben a thing they'd started shortly after meeting at various wine tastings, and had had trouble making decisions, so Burnie invented Short Cork. The premise was simple: it was essentially the short straw, but with corks. He'd take out the corks, put them in a cup you couldn't see through, and then have everyone reach in and draw one out. Whoever got the Short Cork was the loser. They tried to agree that whoever got the Short Cork didn't take it personally.

But exclusion is rarely met with such understanding and acceptance.

                                                                            ***

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?" Flo asked, looking up at Burnie. She was seated on a tiny ottomon at the end of the table next to him. Burnie looked down at her and smirked.

"I'm sorry little girl, what was that?" Burnie asked.

"You're a real dick, you know that?" Flo replied.

Burnie turned to his other side and looked at Delia, who was happily sipping away from her glass while picking up and pushing into her mouth another small appetizer - this one goat cheese and smoked salmon on a bed of caviar - before washing it down with more wine and making a horrible face before looking at the glass in her hand.

"I don't care what year this is, nothing's gonna make up for rich peoples poor excuse for a diet," Delia muttered, making Burnie smirk; Delia looked at Preston beside her and asked, "what do you think?"

"I think I should've stayed home," he replied, looking at the same snack in his hand, "the wine is good enough, but these appetizers leave a lot to be desired. In fact I'd go so far as to saying they're an outright insult to the term, as they're not remotely 'appetizing' in the least. If anything, I think I'll never be hungry again after this."

Burnie felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Charlie behind him, who then jerked his head to the side, indicating he wanted Burnie to follow him. Burnie nodded, tapped Delia on the arm and, together, they got up and followed Charlie. As they walked away from the table, Flo and Preston looking at them before looking at eachother, Flo cleared her throat and eyed his chair.

"Do you think I would get in trouble for sitting in his seat?" Flo asked, and Preston shrugged.

                                                                              ***

Charlie opened the door to the room they'd stopped in front of, allowing Delia and Burnie to enter before entering behind them and shutting the door again. He then turned on a light, illuminating the beautiful wine cellar Ivana had, which made Delia genuinely gasp and even Burnie did a double take.

"Does she know you-" Burnie started, before Charlie interrupted him.

"She does, and I think you are the perfect candidate," Charlie said.

"Candidate for what? You're not gonna harvest my organs, are you?" Burnie asked, making Deliah chuckle.

"You're here to decide which wine shall be our topper for the night," Charlie said, approaching one of the shelves and, pulling a small rag from his pocket, slid one of the bottles out from its cubby, before turning towards them, grinning and adding, "Every year, Ivana pulls one person from the dinner to make the decision for our final wine of the night, and this year she left it up to me, and since you're new here, I figured you deserved to make that choice."

"That's a lot of responsibility," Delia said.

"It most certainly is," Charlie said.

"I'm a dad, I can handle responsibility," Burnie said.

"You left your daughter at tennis practice last week for an extra 2 hours because you flat out forgot she was there," Delia said as Charlie handed Burnie the wine.

"I remembered eventually," Burnie remarked, as he admired the label on the bottle; after a moment or two of reading it he looked up and said, "this is from 1997. This is old old. Is this even still safe to drink?"

"Can't be anymore dangerous than the food," Delia mumbled, to which Charlie snickered and nodded, taking his glasses from his face and wiping them down.

"Yes, that certainly was dreadful wasn't it," he said, before hearing someone calling to him and excusing himself momentarily. Burnie turned the wine bottle over in his hands, looking at it again while Delia watched as Charlie exited, the door shutting behind him, before she turned to Burnie.

"This is awful, why did you invite us?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"I didn't know we were expected to feast like kings on food made out of peasants," Burnie replied, his voice a harsh hiss, "I have no idea she was going to be serving this much food or that the food would be this god awful, alright? I was tyring to be nice! We all were curious about this event for years, so when the opportunity arose I snatched it!"

Burnie looked from Delia to the bottle and sucked his lip before nodding.

"We should teach her a lesson," Delia said, and Burnie nodded.

"Screw Ivana and screw her despicable pallet," he said in agreement.

                                                                            ***

Preston handed Flo a new appetizer, this time one that was visually incomprehensible in terms of its ingrediants. Flo recoiled as he placed it in her hand and smirked.

"Okay, now...the rule is I asked the chef what's in it, and he told me, so now you have to guess each ingrediant, of which there are 3, and if you win, you get five bucks," Preston said, as Flo nodded, opening her mouth and preparing to eat it before stopping.

"First prove you even have five bucks," she said.

"Seriously?" Preston asked, eyebrows raised, "You don't trust I have cash on me?"

"You showed up in your dads car AND jacket," Flo replied, "who's to say you have anything an adult would have."

"Does it matter if the money was also my dads?"

"Goddamn you're sad," Flo muttered before popping the appetizer into her mouth and chewing momentarily, before starting to gag, her eyes widened; she forced herself to swallow and then quickly grabbed the nearest glass and downed it, without even caring whose it was; as she wiped her mouth on her arm she sputtered, "that was downright vile."

Preston threw his head back and laughed, before fishing his wallet out from his pocket and pulling it open, pulling out a five dollar bill and waving it at her.

"Alright, remember what's at stake here," he said.

"Yeah, your allowance, apparently," Flo said, sneering, thinking about what was in what she'd just eaten. After a moment said started counting, holding up a single finger for each count, saying, "Well, one flavor was unmistakably fish. These people love their goddamned fish. Second would be..."

Flo made a face and investigated the aftertaste momentarily before snapping her fingers.

"Second is definitely blue cheese," she said, "Bluecheese, absolutely, I would know that taste anywhere, generally because it's been forced upon me more often than I'd like to admit throughout my life. These people can't even pick good cheese, let alone wine."

"You're two for three, bring it home," Preston said, leaning back and grinning as he waved the bill in her face.

Flo took a long pause and smacked her lips, thinking. She finally sighed, rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"I have no idea," Flo said.

"None at all?" Preston asked, and Flo shook her head as he sat up and put the bill back in his pocket before saying, "shaved Walnut."

A look of terror came over Flo's back as he laughed, but then quickly stopped when he saw her expression.

"Wh...what is it?" he asked.

"Shaved Walnut?" she asked quietly, "Nuts make me sick."

"Not like deathly, right?"

"No, but still, I could easily-"

Just then Burnie and Delia arrived back at the table, bottle of wine in Burnie's hand, immediately interrupting the conversation.

"Where'd you get that lil number?" Preston asked, pulling his sunglasses off and looking at the wine bottle.

"This came from Ivana's personal wine cellar," Burnie said, "apparently every year she has a guest pick out the finisher, and I guess this year I'm the lucky recipient."

Ivana walked up to them and Burnie handed her the bottle, which she graciously took, thanking him as she moved past. As she walked away, Burnie and Delia smirked at one another, confusing Preston who furrowed his brow at them.

"What are you guys so happy about?" he asked.

"What's wrong with her?" Delia asked, looking at Flo, who had now put a hand over her mouth.

At the other end of the table, Ivana stood tall and proud, holding the bottle in her hand as she tapped against it gently with a knife, getting her guests attention. Everyone stopped chatting and looked in her direction, going quiet, allowing her to speak.

"This year's been another rousing success," Ivana said, "and of course it couldn't have been done without my fabulous chefs, Charlie Fletcher and, of course, our guest of the evening, Mr. Burnie Miller, who's picked out our finisher wine for the years event. So, without further ado, let us open up Burnie's pick and partake in the final tasting of the evening."

Someone handed Ivana a corkscrew, which she took, thanking them, as she jabbed it into the cork and twisted, popping it out before pouring herself the first glass. She set the bottle on the table - this was tradition, apparently, she always went first while everyone else waited - and lifted the glass to her lips, taking a nice long sip. After a moment of pausing after the sip, she pursed her lips as a mortified look spread across her face. She then looked at Burnie, her eyes slanted in anger, as she stormed around the table.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" she asked, "What did you do to this, because it's so clearly not what you picked."

"I can't help it if your wine has gone bad," Burnie said, shrugging.

"Burnie," Flo said, tugging at his sleeve, while Ivana continued berating him.

"I want to know what you did with the actual wine you chose," Ivana said, hand on her hip like a frustrated mother, "because you've clearly done something either to it or swapped it or-"

"Burnie," Flo repeated, tugging at him again, now getting Ivana's attention as she turned to look at Flo, who was starting to stand up.

"Ma'am, we are in the middle of an important discourse, so if you could just have a modicum of patience, that would be-"

And then, without warning, Flo put her hands on Ivana's shoulders and vomited all over the front of her dress. Everyone scooted away from the table immediately, except Preston who doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down his face. After she finished, and glanced up to see the mortified look on Ivana's face, Flo grimaced weakly and shrugged.

"...sorry?" she said softly.

The group was escorted off the premises fairly quickly.

                                                                               ***

Parked on a lookout, where teenagers often drove to make out on, the group - who were all seated on the hood of Preston's dads car - were having a much better evening now than they were the entire time at Ivana Blomps. Sitting there, Flo still somewhat sick and Delia helping her drink water from a straw so as not to drink too much to settle her stomach, Burnie just shook his head and clasped his hands.

"Well, I can safely say after having attended it that I don't see the big deal. It wasn't like she even served anything of note or particular interest," Burnie said, "I think she only does well because she's wealthy."

"I will admit," Flo said after taking a long sip of water, "her being a total snob made vomiting on her feel a lot less worse than had she been a nice person."

"You guys, be careful not to sit on the hood too hard, my dad will get mad if there's indents," Preston said, almost hovering over the car as Burnie reached into his coat pocket to retrieve something.

"Thankfully," Burnie said, "I was able to swipe this with no issues."

He held up a bottle that had the wine he and Delia and exchanged it for, the 97 wine sloshing around against the glass. He stood up and tried to pry the cork back out, but was unable to do so, struggling and grunting.

"Be careful," Preston said, sounding nervy.

"After all that, I don't know if I could drink more to be honest," Flo said, "and Preston, I know it wasn't your fault cause you didn't know, but if you ever get me sick like that again, I will kill you and bury you in your dads car."

"Gimme that," Delia said, standing up and taking the bottle from Burnie, "there's an old trick to opening these, see, you just have to-"

And within a second the cork blasted from its orifice, smashing into the windshield of Prestons fathers car. Everyone stood around, trying not to laugh, as Preston hopped off the hood and started gesturing towards it, causing them all, even Flo, to crack up. Delia said she'd pay to get it replaced tonight, and apologized, and despite Preston being annoyed, he couldn't help but laugh a little himself.

Flo was right.

Antagonist was the right word for these people.