>"I leave for an hour and you're already smashed..."
>You swing around, watching your Uncle Chen walk up wearing an unsurprised look.
"Pfft."
>You emphasize with air quotes.
"Smashed... I'm only three mugs *hic!* in."
>You slide down the table's bench a little to hide the eight empty tankards.
>The two drunk humans sitting on the other side voice up.
>"Yeah she's fiiinee!" They say in red-faced unison.
>Chen maintains a neutral composure "So then riddle me this - where's your pants."
"...Uhhh."
>You point to one of the few Lunar Dragon costumes prancing around the festival grounds.
"The dancers took it."
>When Chen turns his head, you swing back around on your bench, ignore the wetness you're slathering a bit on, raise a leg, and continue the footjob under the wooden table on the human to your right who's pants are also lacking.
>That same human slams a fist on the table, knocking down a few mugs when you start scissoring his shaft in between your big toe and index.
>The next thing you know, Chen takes his arms under your shoulders and lifts you up from the bench, a strand of grool trailing from your muff to the seat.
>"I think it's best we go. You two try to have a happy New Lunar week."
"Aww comon Uncle, we just got here! I dressed up and everything..."
>He throws you over his shoulder, making sure your dress covers your liberated love, and hauls you away.