i'll drink to that

It probably comes as a surprise to no one Walter doesn't exactly greet the morning or the man who woke him up with much in the way of good will. The previous night's events had ended with his annual Hunger Games tradition of drinking himself into a stupor while the previous year's highlights played. The sort of blackout drunk sleep that, well... Weyoun had some difficulty rousing him, to say the least. The solution was dumping a bucket of icewater on his face. While it did work, it also ended with Weyoun getting tossed bodily from the cabin and Walter shouting about GOING BACK TO FUCKING BED NOW YOU ASSHOLE.

Despite the yelling, a few minutes later he's in the dining car and settling irritably into breakfast still vaguely damp-haired and in his bathrobe still because fuck you, Weyoun. Zopf is all too eager to attempt to quiz him on survival tips as soon as he possibly can. Frankly, it's too early, Walter's too hungover, and this kid is seriously getting on his nerves.

"Could you maybe... shut up for a while, cupcake." He rubs at his eyes wearily, wishing he could throw something without dealing with Weyoun's condescending scolding. Not that scolding is particularly threatening, he just really can't deal with the noise. "You people aren't usually so enthusiastic."