[ idiots like rip, he says, and peggy won't lift a finger to defend the man. it's not her way, she's not the sort, and she can already tell that rocket uses epithets like that one as casually as someone else might use any other adjective. nor does she see fit to explain the finer details of that particular shooting contest -- that rip had managed to goad her into a second round of shooting using their off hands. she'd lost that one, and his odd little broadcast had been a way to rub it in her face.

peggy won't do any of these things because it suits her much better to embrace the victory, to smile a toothy smile of her own, and nod along with rocket's verdict. she also won't do any of these things because (from the sounds of it) rip never betrayed that part of the story. ]

Oh, I could have taken him for more than his beard. [ mostly true. ] He should consider himself lucky I was feeling merciful, at the time. But seeing as I've yet to find a decent game of poker in my ten months, here, I find my wagers elsewhere.