Something's Wrong With Me

“What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Randall wasted no time beginning the interrogation, still smoothly closing the door behind him as he asked his first question, Knees  not even facing  him yet.
Despite being the one who started this whole thing, he seemed hesitant to talk, and lingered in place for a few seconds before slowly turning to the other man, fists balled, forcing himself to look Randall dead in the eyes, locking them in silence for a moment, perhaps trying to stare him down… Perhaps just trying to see how he was feeling.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that,” he snapped, finally breaking eye contact, scuffing his heel against the wooden floor. “It aint that serious.”

Randall’s arms remained crossed, a single brow raising on his otherwise rigid, porcelain face.
“Well you’ve made it seem pretty serious.” He countered, his tone sharp yet calm, as he interrupted the other before he could explain himself further.

This meeting  had been weighing on Randall’s mind all day.  Early in the morning, when
everyone else was getting ready to start moving again, Knees had pulled him off to the side.

“Hey, I needa see you alone later… Somethin’s been botherin’ me.”

It was amazing how such a vague explanation could suggest so much. Randall was taken                    
                              aback by it, but knew the other would be flustered if he drew it out any longer
               than absolutely necessary.

                “Alright.” Was Randall’s simple response, reaffirmed with an understanding nod.

“Just whenever we know we can stop for a bit again. Don’t bother if it’d be risky.”
               This was probably unnecessary to stay, but Knees still decided to add it, just in case. He
                              didn’t want to make Randall feel rushed, and end up getting them separated from the group    
                              just because he needed to talk.

That was all the two had said to each other on the topic all day, up until this point. When
they spoke again throughout, they acted as if it had never happened.  


However, more than just words could speak volumes. Despite acting normal otherwise, everytime
no one else seemed to be paying attention to them, Knees would shoot Randall a strange look,
visible eye wide and pleading.
Considering this, it was reasonable how one could conject that it was probably something serious.


“Well it really aint.” Knees grumbled back, crossing his own arms, already seeming flustered.
“Just listen, alright?”

Randall softened his gaze a little bit, realizing he may have been too accusatory before.
“Alright..” he responded, gentler this time. “What’s wrong?”

Knees still couldn’t look back at him, and rubbed his arm anxiously as he began to speak.
“...I’ve just been feelin’ a lil sick lately, is all..”

Suddenly, a new pressure came down on Randall’s chest, and he tilted his chin back in thought as he considered everything about the other, nodding subtly as he examined him up and down, forcing a quiet “I see…” before falling silent, just to make it clear it was because he was thinking.

Even if Randall could possibly identify the problem, treating it was a whole other story in a place like this--when you never knew what lies behind the door in front of you. Trying to find anything they needed, even just food and water, could easily be a challenge, let alone medication or first aid supplies.
If anyone was ever afflicted with anything serious, it could be a real problem…
However, as Randall examined him, staring hard into his eye and the way his lips met each other, he considered the way Knees had been acting lately. Luckily, he realized he’d seemed pretty normal, if not just a little more reserved.

“I mean, you do got some kinda medical degree, right? No matter what you ended up doin’ with it.” Knees interjected, pulling Randall from his thoughts and making him scoff. Not that he was truly offended by his past being acknowledged, but still finding it funny that Knees felt the need to.

“Most of it.” He clarified, before diverting into getting the information he needed.
 “You know, you seemed fine to me. I never would’ve thought anything was wrong with you… How’ve you been feeling sick?”


Knees seemed nervous and hesitant again, still clasping his wrist as he lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed, hoping Randall would take a seat next to him.. But of course, he didn’t, forcing Knees to look up at him as he stood before him, finally letting his arms fall to his sides, placing one hand on his hip as he rocked them forward, his head tilted curiously as he waited for Knees to manage a response.

“Just my stomach, mostly,” he finally admitted, gesturing in front of himself with both hands as he spoke, “been kinda queasy lately, outta nowhere, and just kinda.. Outta it in general, sometimes. Like I’m tired, or somethin’, even though I been gettin’ just as much sleep.”

“... You needed all this privacy just to tell me you’re sleepy and getting stomach aches?” He reiterated, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Randall realized quickly he probably shouldn’t have said this, not wanting to embarrass Knees about it more than he already seemed to be, but he just couldn’t help himself. For one thing, Knees being so stressed over such a small problem was so ironic that it was sort of funny. Deeper down, somewhere, Randall knew it was out of relief, too--playful teasing to ease the undeserved tension.

“I can’t have anyone knowin’ if there’s anything wrong with me!” Knees shot back, throwing his arm down and smacking the bed for emphasis, before adding a grumbled, “Even if it aint a big deal.”

Randall simply sighed in response, unable to help the subtle smile forming on his lips as he tried to conjure up the right thing to say.. He guessed that Knees wouldn’t be willing to elaborate more on the subject, but he didn’t need to anyways. Randall had already put together that he just couldn’t stand showing any vulnerability to the others--that was why he’d been so insistent on being alone for this.  He was afraid that even just getting sick would make him be perceived as weak… Randall found it sort of sad, honestly.

Finally, he stepped forward and lowered himself to the bed next to Knees, offering a gentle hand on his back, for reassurance. Knees shot him a confused glare, but didn’t do anything to stop him, either.

“Alright, alright... I see.. Well, Knees,” Randall began, doing his best to soften from his usual deceptively suave tone, “to be quite honest, I think you’re perfectly fine.”

“Oh, on God?” Knees replied, earning a certain nod in response.

“It sounds to me like you’re just nervous.” Randall furthered, watching for any reaction.


 Knees bowed his head somewhat at this, looking away yet again, seeming ashamed to have been caught feeling any kind of fear. He shifted uncomfortably under the other man’s gaze, not having anything to say this time.
“It’s perfectly normal to lose your appetite, feel a little sick, or have trouble focusing if you have a lot on your mind. Honestly, I really can’t blame you, I think everyone’s more than a little shaken up, Knees. I mean, we’re kind of trapped in a death box right now.” Randall continued, providing reasons, hoping if he realized he wasn’t the only one, it may make him feel better about it.
Randall’s brows knitted together with a curious frown, and he tilted his head closer to Knees, trying to see his face beyond the large clump of bangs he was looking at.
“You know you don’t have to be strong all the time…”

This gentle suggestion was enough to set Knees off, and he jerked his back straight in an instant, brows furrowed as he snapped around to face the other.
“Of course I do!” He insisted, cheeks red, nostrils flared.

Randall threw his hand off of Knees back, spreading both arms beside him in a gesture, palms out as if to show they were clean, guilt free. “I was just saying!” He countered, internally cursing himself for overstepping his bounds. He should’ve realized that would fluster Knees--when he was flustered, he was volatile. “It could also be the fact that you eat like a horse, and drink champagne like one too!”

He sighed again, though out of annoyance this time, realizing he preferred the less emotional option as he watched with masked concern. Despite the scowl Knees’ was still forcing in place, his body language showed otherwise, shoulders slumping again as he exhaled, no longer puffing up his chest.
As tempting as giving up, and switching over to teasing him--since that apparently sat better--was starting to look, Randall knew pretending that didn’t happen wasn’t the right thing to do here. When Knees got defensive enough to yell, yelling right back wasn’t going to do anything but build his walls up higher…
Nevermind helping him with an illness, now Randall just wanted to help him out emotionally.

Randall let the room air out for a few moments, before he tried again. “I know this isn’t what you came here for, but will you just listen to me for a minute? It’s not going to come back to haunt you, I just want to talk.”
Knees’ eye twitched with suspicion, but he didn’t make any sudden movements this time.
“How’d you know I think you’re trying to get blackmail on me?” He inquired, slipping up, not realizing he was admitting what he was so afraid of.

“I didn’t, you’re the only one who said that.” Randall pointed out, with a calm but smug smile.

“There’s no one worth telling your business to in this thing, anyways. Nobody knows a damn thing about where we are--we’re all too confused for plotting. Especially plotting against one of the most capable guys out of all of us.” He reasoned, figuring he could stand to admit that Knees really was pretty useful. Always cramming himself into something or wrenching somebody out, really putting his muscles where his mouth is.

Randall could see contemplation in Knees’ brown eye as he stared off to the side, facial features finally relaxing as he laced his fingers together in thought, not even looking up at the hand being placed on his shoulder.

“... I guess you got a point.” He admitted, opening his hands and turning them over in front of him.
“If not a word leaves this room, I’ll hear you out.”

Randall gave his best attempt at a soothing smile before he began to speak, opening his arms and legs, turning to face the other more.

“I understand why you feel like you have to, Knees, but… You don’t have to be the tough guy all the time.” Already, Randall could see him wanting to interject, so he continued before he got the chance.

“I mean, look at everyone else. Howard freaks out non stop, he’s literally always on about something crazy, losing his mind at the smallest sign or whatever theory he came up with instead of sleeping the night before. I don’t know how, but you don’t judge him for it, do you?”
Randall gave him a second to let it sink in--that Knees was still the friendliest to Howard out of all of them, despite him being the definition of a tweaker. 

“Morgan gets pretty frantic when she doesn’t know what to do, too… But when she’s like that everyone steps forward to help her, not laugh at her for being stressed. Tucker… Well, he might not seem to get nervous, like, ever… Or any kind of way, now that I think about it, actually, but I don’t think he’s particularly brave, either. He’s probably just as scared as the rest of us… And, as for Daniel? Even if we do make fun of him when he’s upset, it’s different than if you were… Because Daniel’s a huge dick. It’s because he sucks, not because he has feelings.”
Knees was finally looking at him for more than a few seconds now,  eyes locked on with interest although his head remained unturned, brow wrinkled with consideration.


“So…,” he began, moving his hand in a small, comforting circle on the other’s firm shoulder, “if we don’t expect anyone else to act like that, why would we expect it of you?”

The silence that followed afterwards felt less out of place this time, the look in Knees’ eyes seeming softer as he processed what he was being told… He’d been acting this way since he was a little kid, practically, always feeling like he had to for one reason another. 

“I-... I guess… This is-- could be, the first time in a long time I aint had to worry about it affectin’ someone in the long run. Me or anyone I care about.” He explained, hesitantly, earning nothing but  understanding in return. “I’ve never really been in a place to act… Y’know,” he didn’t want to call it by its name, “any other way. Whether it’s ‘cause I’m around people badder than me, or ‘cause I’m doin’ it for someone who can’t do it for their self.”

Randall said nothing in return, instead watching Knees intently, speechless. Not only trying to digest this information, but, honestly… He was expecting him to explain more, and was waiting for him to finish. The silence didn’t seem to sit well with Knees, though, and after just a few moments, his gaze started to jitter back and forth.
He couldn’t stop himself from breaking the silence, with a sudden, fumbled, “Y’know!?”

Randall was taken aback by this, and jumped slightly, an “Uh…” Escaping his lips before he could stop himself. Not that he didn’t understand, of course, the vagueness just caught him off guard.
He shook his head to snap himself out of it, before forcing a deliberate nod. “Yeah.. Yes, of course.”

It was clear to Knees that his response wasn’t genuine, but not so much why, leading to him getting the wrong idea. Expression growing troubled, he jerked away, starting to get up. “Exactly what I thought was gonna happen!” He grumbled, face now turned to the floor.
“Wait-- Wh-? Knees, hey!” Randall stammered, reaching out and grabbing the other’s wrist, not letting go at the tug that followed. He realized after it was too late that this was a bit pushy, but he just.. Really didn’t want Knees to leave.

“You think I’m some kinda bitch, now. Shouldn’t a’ said anything.” He insisted, still not looking back.
He’d became flustered so easily, already trying to run away from his admission, convinced he’d made a terrible mistake at the smallest, misconstrued reaction.

Randall was standing now too, taking a step up behind him and moving his hand to his upper arm, pressing gently to try and urge him to spin around.

“It’s nothing like that, Knees! I don’t think you’re a bitch!” Randall countered urgently,

tone dripping with concern.
Knees  didn’t say anything back this time, finally pausing to listen, head nudging to the left, but still unable to fully face the man behind him.

“You just caught me off guard,” Randall explained, moving closer again, voice growing softer now that he’d been given a moment to speak, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Knees hesitated, before finally speaking. “Wasn’t expectin’ me to what? Think somethin’ that stupid?”

For Randall, this was just one shock after another. Although he’d never admit it, he could be pretty closed off himself, and even embarrassed easily. However, this was still a huge amount of anxiety for such a harmless, frankly normal thought. Not that it made it any less difficult to deal with, but Randall was certain that Knees was far from the only man to feel this way.

“No, no! I just… wasn’t expecting you to say so little, honestly.” He clarified, the heavy atmosphere finally lightening up a bit. Randall felt the thick muscles beneath his hand relax somewhat as Knees’ body began to slump with relief.
“It’s not that you shouldn’t have said anything, in fact, I think you could’ve stood to say more.”

Although realizing he’d mistook Randall just embarrassed him more, Knees had to be honest with himself, and what had really happened was still preferable to what he had assumed. Shamefaced, he finally turned back around, lips parted, eyes dejectedly to the floor. All he could offer back was an, “Oh,”
for the time being. He couldn’t believe he’d already managed to make a mess of himself.

Randall looked down to him tenderly, concern in his knitted brow and widened eyes. He slid his hand from Knees’ shoulder to his wrist, tugging it in the direction of the bed.
“Can we sit back down and talk about it?”

“... Yeah… Guess we should.” Knees agreed, letting the other begin to guide him over,
“Sorry ‘bout that…” He added, quietly.

“It’s okay…” Randall replied, remaining turned to Knees, one arm ending up on the bed behind him as they lowered themselves next to each other, hoping he’d seem open.

“Now, Knees, I would never judge you for anything like that, and I doubt any of the others would either… Especially not something that…” He’d almost said small, but realized that may only make him feel even worse for being so upset about this all, “normal. Not that it means it doesn’t matter, but I think a lot of men worry about that. It doesn’t make you weak at all.”

Knees still didn’t seem totally convinced, but he did appear to have relaxed somewhat. No longer too ashamed to look back, he finally picked his head up, tilting it in thought. “You really don’t think anyone else’s gonna think otherwise?”

“If they do they’re an asshole, anyways.” Randall countered, without missing a beat. “Having feelings doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means you’re not a robot…”
This seemed to lighten the mood a little bit, and Knees blew air from his nostrils in response, head wavering side to side, showing his consideration.

“If you mean in a more dangerous way--I mean, that is reasonable to take into account considering our situation-- I believe it could go for that, too. If I wanted to really use something against you, it would be something more relevant than you trying to be brave.” Randall reasoned.
He realized that sharing this thought process could reveal that he knows a little something about capitalizing on others, but he figured making Knees feel a little more secure was more important than hiding his knowledge.

“I guess you’re right.” Knees accepted, turning in Randall’s direction, his arm finding it’s way behind the other as well, hand rested on the bed, positions mirroring each other. “Honestly.. I aint ever really talked about… anything like this with someone else before; had no idea if it was normal or not… You get how I’d think  that meant it wasn’t.” 

Randall concluded on his own that it was probably more than just not having a point of reference--years of conditioning, pressuring, and being in situations where not being masculine enough could escalate quickly was probably more like it. However, he knew it was probably too soon to call the other out on that, so for now, he accepted the explanation he was given.

“Well, we’re changing that right now.” Randall began, offering a smile. “I get it if you’re hesitant, but if anything’s ever on your mind, you can talk to me… And considering some of the honesty based traps we’ve been through, I feel like you may have to start opening up to the others, too.”

Knees’ eyes drifted to the center of the room, expression pinching subtly in dismay as he remembered the games of truth or dare and never have I ever the group had been physically forced into just a few days earlier. “Oh, Jesus, yeah…” He groaned and hung his head, realizing there was a lot more in store. 

A silence fell between the two of them, lost in the same thought; concern for how the hell Knees was going to handle that Surprisingly, it wasn’t Randall who finally broke it.

“Y’know, ah.. You too.” Knees offered, sheepishly.

Randall immediately jumped at this small statement, and despite already understanding what he meant, still let out: “What?”

Knees looked up and turned his head to him, finally, but his eyes stayed on the floor.
“Like, y’know…” He began, blowing out air as he scratched the back of his head.
 “How you said I could come to you with shit… You can… talk to me too… If you want.”

Randall’s brows came together as his lips came apart, though he could say nothing at first, instead resorting to shaking his head and stammering. “No-!”
Knees’ confusion brought him out his nervousness, and he found himself able to make eye contact again, tilting his head. “No?”
Randall had turned into a completely different man at the command of two words, no longer calculating his actions, completely failing at feigning a cool head.
“No, I-I wouldn’t need anything like that. Thanks, but I would never!” He insisted, closing his legs and turning away, hand over his mouth.
“What? The fuck you me- Ohoho, what have we here?” Knees cut himself off with a chuckle after standing up and leaning over the other man, catching sight of how red his face was. That was easy.
“You would, you just don’t want to, ah?” He accused, still laughing.  
“No!” Randall insisted, voice breaking, his head sinking into his shoulders away from the other looming over him. “It’s not like that! I just-- … Don’t have anything I’d need to talk about.”  He claimed, suddenly sounding a lot calmer with a clear of his throat, as he made himself  sit up straight again. 

Knees just shook his head and shut his eyes smugly, taking a step back but not sitting down, arms crossed. “Nah, nah, I aint buyin’ that shit. You act like I should just be tellin’ you everything myself but you aint wanna tell me anything. Aint so easy when it’s you, huh, wiseguy?”
Randall groaned, putting a hand to his forehead with a sigh. He thought it over for a moment before giving in. “Fine- Yeah, you got me, shocker.” He grumbled, still red faced.



Knees finally sat down next to him again, throwing his legs open and his hands in the air.
“C’mon! Think about it, what’s the worst that’d happen? We both got guns to each others backs here. If I’m tellin’ you my business, n you tellin’ me all your business, wouldn’t make any sense for me to try ‘n blackmail you, ‘cause you could turn around ‘n do it right back. ‘N then you could go missin’ ‘n aint no one would know why, but that’s beside the point.”  He reasoned, chuckling. Randall wasn’t so lighthearted though, top lip wrinkling at this.

“First of all, Knees, I hope you didn’t just imply what I think you did. Second of all, that’s not what I’m worried about. It’s just… I have an appearance to keep up, with everyone, including you.” He explained, still feeling like he was saying way, way too much despite still keeping things vague.
“And I don’t?” Knees countered, tilting his head with an irritating smirk.
As stupidly simplistic as that reasoning was, he had a point. It was a bit hypocritical to tell Knees to prioritize his well being over coming off a certain way, and then turn around and say it was important for himself to do exactly that. Randall mulled it over in his head for a bit, not wanting to admit he was wrong but knowing he was. His hesitation was taking far too long for Knees liking, and he spoke up once again.
“You know I got a point.”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” Randall snapped; playing dumb was easier than admitting he was wrong. “But… Well, I’ll consider it.”
Knees fondly smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.
 “Yeah attaboy! We got an agreement here then!”
He was happy to feel like he’d won, but he had mixed feelings about the fact that he’d have to start being more open, too. On the surface he was nervous, still unsure despite convincing that it’d turn out in his favor, but deep down, he knew it’d be good for him, and take some of the everlasting pressure off his chest.

Randall, not wanting to have to go first, decided to start on Knees. “Now, like I said, I can completely understand why you’re stressed out… Honestly, I’ve been worried too…. But I believe there’s a good chance everything will be fine, too.” He said, swallowing dryly, “We’ve got a couple of good heads between all of us, and we’ve been able to get through everything so far. Maybe we’ll get used to it, and things won’t be as hard anymore… And anyways, we have to find a way out eventually… Right?”
Knees wasn’t smiling anymore, hunching over as he looked at the wall, nodding solemnly.
“Yeah, you got a point…” He agreed, the dismay at acknowledging their predicament overshadowing his relief. He scooted closer to Randall and leaned towards him, hands clasped between his knees.


 “...You think we can trust the others?”He asked, hesitantly, looking up to the other with wide eyes. He figured that the question couldn’t be used against him in anyway, but it still felt risky to show concern with it at all, somehow, like reasonable cautiousness would make him appear weak.

Randall was taken aback by this, his lips parting in surprise before pursing firmly in thought. 

“I’m not sure…” He started, still considering everything
 “I can’t say so about anyone for sure, but I do feel more secure with some than others… Morgan is probably a good girl. Tucker is too hard to read to tell,  even for me. I do have a bad feeling about Daniel and Howard, though.” Randall explained, rubbing his chin.
“I agree on Daniel, that guy’s a conniving bastard. But I don’t think I’d suspect anything from Howard, you just don’t like him.” Knees responded, willing to agree to disagree about his friend. He’d already accepted that there was no making Randall change his mind, so he’d just have to take it as it was and like both of them separately, for now.
“You’re right, he’s more dumb than evil, too stupid for plotting.” Randall said, snickering.
Knees elbowed him playfully in the side. “Hey! He’s actually pretty smart. Just ‘cause he gets on your nerves don’t mean he’s stupid.”
Randall knew he had a point, but wasn’t about to admit it, instead just rolling his eyes with a fond smile. “Whatever you say…”
The two of them shared a laugh, despite nothing particularly funny happening, then let silence fall over the room once again; a calm one, this time.

Leaning back, Knees placed his palms on the bed behind him to hold himself up.
“Well, as much as I’m enjoyin’ our alone time, Randy, I don’t wanna wait around too long ‘n then end up gettin’ carried away from the others, so we should prolly wrap this up soon. I just gotta make sure… You don’t think them problems I was havin’ was anything serious? No tapeworms or nothin’?”
Randall snickered, shaking his head. “No, no ‘tapeworms or nothin’..... But, well, it could be a few other things.” He responded, tone suddenly becoming serious on the latter half, a startling difference from how light hearted he was just seconds before. A difference Knees picked up on, making his visible eye widen.
“L-Like what!?” He demanded, urgently.
“Well, it could just be the erratic eating schedule… Whatever we’re doing now probably isn’t what you’re used to, no matter how you ate at home… Or…”
“Or!?” Knees yiped, sitting up straight, leaning closer to the other’s side. “Or what!?”
Randall’s eyelids lowered, head lolling to the left thoughtfully. “Or… You could be pregnant.”
Knees shoulders slumped, his frown remaining but the reason changing, no longer concerned.
“What?” He replied, tone flat and unimpressed.

“You could be pregnant.” Randall repeated, matter of factly, his look seeming assured despite how ridiculous what he was saying was.
“Shut the hell up, I aint fuckin’ pregnant.” Knees shot back, crossing his arms. “If that’s all you gotta say, I’m outta here.”
“No, I’m serious, Knees. Don’t be so quick to say that.” Randall responded, brows raised convincingly.
“There’s no way in fuckin’ hell I’m pregnant-- That aint even possible.” He growled back.
“Who’s the doctor?” Randall retorted… Knees had been pretty unwavering before, but Randall could tell by the look in his eye that, somehow, this worked on him. He bit back a smile as he continued. “Exactly…”
Knees pouted, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “Don’t get fuckin’ smug… Just tell me why the hell you think somethin’ as ridiculous as that.”
“Well, you eat a ton, that’s cravings, you can have a pretty bad temper--that’s moodiness, the weird feeling you’ve been getting in your stomach could be the new life forming, blossoming… And weren’t you throwing up in the bathroom yesterday morning? You see where I’m going with this.” Randall reasoned, unable to help the subtle smile forming on his lips.
“I was hungover from drinkin’ all that prison wine, don’t gimme that.” Knees retorted.
“And I would stop drinking if I were you, you’re an expecting mother now.”
“I am not fuckin’ expecting, Randall, c’mon!”
“Crazier things have happened.” Randall offered, without skipping a beat, “I mean… Think about it. We’re trapped in some kind of horrible rat maze right now, with no idea how we got here. If someone can whisk us away into a giant Rubik's cube, who’re you to say it’s impossible you could be pregnant?”
The idea of him being pregnant was insane, but… Well, Randall did make a damn fine point, and Knees found he wasn’t as enraged by him spouting nonsense before, now that it seemed like he could’ve been serious about it.
After staring the other down with a harsh sneer for a few seconds, Knees groaned in frustration and put his hand to his forehead. “Fine-- Y’know what? Fine, whatever. Even if I was pregnant, which I aint--,” they both knew damn well Knees wasn’t really sure of that, “what do you expect me to do about it anyways? You think there’s a butthole abortion clinic in this goddamn thing?”
“Lucky for you, Mommy, I have just the thing.” Randall responded coolly, sticking his fingers in his coat pocket.
“How the- How do you have a goddamn abortion in your pocket!?” Knees barked, teeth gritted.
“It’s not an abortion, it’s yet another of my amazing advances in the medical field-- My patent pended Rilly Juice!” Randall replied, finally producing a small, murky water bottle out of his pocket. “I made it last time we found a kitchen. I’ve been saving it for something important, so be thankful I’m letting you have it.”
Knees’ nose wrinkled in disgust, and he reared his head back. “I am not drinking that.” He hissed, standing up and preparing to leave.
“It’s either drink it or have a baby, your choice, Knees.” He returned, shrugging.
Knees just stared at him for a second before letting out a long growl, and snatching it out of Randall’s hand. “Give me that-!” He griped, raising the bottle to his bulging left eye. Cautiously, he unscrewed the cap, and sniffed the top suspiciously before gagging. “Ach- God, what is this?”
“It’s my Rilly Juice.” Randall replied, simply.
“I mean what’s in it, Doc.” He clarified, knowing he didn’t really need to.
“All natural ingredients. You think it smells bad because you’re used to artificial fragrances.”

Knees gave him a long, hard look, the corners of his mouth tugged back apprehensively, before he sighed and finally gave in, taking a long, hard swig of the dark green liquid, like doing a shot.
Randall’s mouth came open in a wide, horrified grin as he watched the other chug down half the bottle recklessly.
Knees could only handle so much though, and he ripped the bottle from his lips with a sharp gag, sneering. One hand flew to his stomach and the other to his mouth, face twisting. “Jesus fucking Chr-,”
but before he could finish, he found himself interrupted by Randall’s shrill, wheezing laughter.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you really did it! You really drank that?”
Knees snarled and threw the bottle to the ground, sending it splashing all over the walls and the ceiling. “You told me I had to, you rat bastard!”
“And you really believed it!? You can’t get pregnant!” Randall shot back as he wiped a tear from his eye, standing up to prepare to run.
“I’m gonna rip your fuckin’ earrings out you little shit!” Knees roared, cracking his knuckles and lunging for the other man, who was already sprinting for the door.
“What’s going on!?” a voice called from the other room, obviously thinking the circumstances were a lot worse than they were.
“I played a prank on Knees, help me keep him out!” Randall yelled back, slamming the door behind him and holding the knob before Knees could get to it, leaving him to beat against it like a crazed gorilla.
“Get the fuck back here, pencil neck!” He screamed, jiggling the knob. “I’ll bust this goddamn door down!”

The others were murmuring frantically behind the door, concerned whines and laughing emanating from behind it. Knees was too mad to make any of it out though… Must be those mood swings Randall was talking about.