You’re not in the mood for any kind of
confrontation, so you walk purposefully over to the bar, silently hoping that
the man doesn’t follow.
You glance over your shoulder to see that
the man in question is now lifting another guy from the floor by the collar of
his shirt. Huh. He must not have been after you.
Content with that, you reach out to claim
your prize, but another guy leans forward and wraps and arm around your
shoulders. This one is extremely drunk.
“That was a nashty tummle,” the guy
slurs. He slides a glass of clear liquid
toward you. “Have a drink. You neeeeeeeeeeed it.”
You shrug.
Your prize is in front of you.
What could one drink hurt?
You open your eyes, and everything
hurts. The sun is trying to fry your
face off. It takes everything you have
in you to sit up. It takes a moment to
figure out that you’re in the back alley behind the bar.
You look down, and the first thing you see
is the pink leggings that one girl was wearing.
You’re wearing them now, and scattered all around you are hundreds of
cardboard beer coasters.
Perhaps your hobby is harmful after all.
Hope nobody saw that...
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