"Star-Lord, you idiot! You almost got us all killed! Your head is full of #!%@! The more I think about it, the angrier I get!"
As he mixed hard liquor into his coffee, Rocket Raccoon complained through his pointed snout, spewing all kinds of colorful language with remarkably fresh breath.
"I'm the captain! Only I get to make decisions! If you don't like it, then let's have a battle!"
Star-Lord, who had been cursed out, tugged at his jacket collar and struck the opening pose for breakdancing—or perhaps Snake-Shaped Vicious Hand. Then he suddenly remembered something and turned his head aside. "Also, Rocket, you're dead! I was clearly thinking about Gamora, yet you called her #!%@."
#!%@ was a type of alien maggot that fed on other animals' excrement. Most lifeforms in the universe could not pronounce its name correctly, because English had no sound that required the tongue to spin around inside the mouth while sucking.
Neither of them pronounced it correctly, so the others probably had no idea what they were saying.
"I am Groot."
The tree-man, who loved stirring up trouble, and everyone else present turned to look at the green-skinned female assassin, waiting to see her reaction.
But Gamora showed no reaction at all. Star-Lord confessed to her every other day, and she had long since grown numb to it. Her heart was still as water; she even found it a little funny. She merely rubbed the little plastic packet of powdered sugar between her fingers, rolling it around on the tabletop.
"Oh."
That was all she said. Beside her, Nebula slurped more loudly from her coffee cup. The cyborg was trying to live like a human, starting with learning how to drink coffee.
Rocket Raccoon had a terrible temper and was extremely irritable. He immediately