Madoka stared the bartender down, (magical) pistol aimed right at the woman’s chest. The bartender held no gun in return, but instead cleaned a wineglass with her dishrag and her flattest expression.

“You’re not going anywhere, Miss…” Madoka was trying to say something badass, but she forgot where she was going with it. “Miss… Bartender. You’re going down.”

The bartender did not respond, and instead set the now-clean wineglass down, picking up another one. Madoka scowled at her and tightened her grip on the (magical) pistol.

“Are you deaf?” Madoka asked. “If so, I’ll sign it out for you.” With her left hand, Madoka waved her hand around like she was swatting a gnat away. “You see? now step aside.”

The bartender set down her next glass and met Madoka’s eyes. “You still have the safety on,” she said.

Madoka quickly rectified that and then pointed the gun at the bar. She shot it, breaking one of the wine glasses. “I was just testing you! But now it’s not going to be so easy for you, huh?”

At this, the bartender swatted Madoka’s right hand, forcing her to drop the (magical) pistol. With her other hand, the bartender slapped Madoka across the face, before catching the (magical) pistol in the air, spinning it, and setting it underneath the bar. Madoka went backwards a few feet from the shock of being slapped; everyone in the bar was now staring at her (though they were ignoring her when she was pointing the gun at the bartender because, seriously, it’s Mexico).

“You’re… such a dick!” Madoka yelled. “I just want another glass…” She staggered back towards the bar. “It’s like… my birthday, you know!”

“You’ve had enough for tonight, Mrs. Kaname,” the bartender said.

Madoka reached out at the bartender, like she wanted to attack her… and then collapsed on the ground before she took her second step. She was sound asleep.

The bartender dialed a number on her rotary phone. “Hello? Yes, again. Sorry about that. Yes, she’ll be here for you to pick her up. You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

***

Sayaka sat in the passenger's seat of the (Mexican-produced) car, as Kyoko drove in silence. Madoka laid in the back seat, and she was completely out. The coldest of outs.

“Damn,” Sayaka muttered as she looked at Madoka. That girl knew how to over-drink. Kyoko heard Sayaka and turned to her. She didn’t glare, but Sayaka knew she probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. “Uh, sorry. I just… man, I thought I was the one who liked my alcohol.”

Kyoko didn’t say anything, or turn her head this time; she just kept her eyes on the road. “That bad, huh?” Sayaka asked. “I’m really sorry about it.”

“It’s fine,” Kyoko answered. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Ah, yeah, you’re welcome! Maybe we can just go out and have a girls’ day sometime soon. It’ll get you to stop worrying about, uh, the lame stuff.”

“Maybe.”

Kyoko and Sayaka and Madoka returned home to the Kaname Fort in the middle of the desert. Sayaka said her goodbyes, and just hoped that Madoka would be able to wake up in the morning and eat that cake Kyoko had been spending all day on.