Anatomy Of A Really Nasty Hangover

Posted: September 8, 2010 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , ,

Blrugh. Mrrgn. Wh…what? What? Oh…’s light out. Fuck. Ughhh. Urp. Okay. Okay. Oh my…guh. What the hell time is it anyways? Three in the afternoon? Awww damn it.

Phew. Alright. So…time to think. What happened last night? Okay, think. Think really hard.

There was a bar…it was…where was it? Damn it! I don’t remember. I walked there since I was already drunk, that I DO remember. Oh hell. Heh heh. I really must have tied one on. I guess I should…

Hold on. What? What the FUCK?! THESE AREN’T MY BOXERS! These damn sure aren’t the ones I wore last night! Wait…I DIDN’T EVEN WEAR BOXERS LAST NIGHT! I remember! I was freeballin’ because all my shorts were dirty after…well, last weekend. How did these get here and on my body? Did I get laid?

Whatever. If that’s the craziest thing that happened last night, I’m set. Ugh. I want some fuckin’…fuckin’ Golden Grahams. Yeah those sound awesome. Do I have any? Am I going to have to go get some? I hope not. Probably should check. Time to move the body. This is going to hurt.

Hrrrrrrrrglh. Waaaaaaaaaaaaragh. Prrrrrap ap ap ap. Pleh. Okay. Okay, so I puked. Whatever. Whatever. It’s just my stomach telling me I had a hell of a time last night. Where are those Golden Grahams?

What…what is that on the table? Are those…keys? Yeah, they’re KEYS. What the hell? I’ve never seen these before. This one looks like it goes to a safety deposit box…that one looks like a car key…don’t know what the hell that third one is for. Why would I have these? I left my car at home last night. Eh. Figure this out after Golden Grahams.

WHY DO WE NOT HAVE ANY GOLDEN GRAHAMS?! FUCK!

Okay. Okay. Calm down. Calm down. Don’t aggravate the stomach more. We’ll just go buy more. Just grab the keys and…

Okay. Well that’s not my car. That is a rusty blue ’91 Jetta, not a white ’01 Camry. That explains the key though. Oh holy crap, did I DRIVE last night? Oh my God. How am I not in jail? Well…I mean, I guess no harm no foul. I would still like to know how I got that car.

…oh shit. I need to check my phone, don’t I? Oh boy. This won’t be…FORTY-SEVEN MESSAGES?! Oh hell. Oh hell. Who did I call? Who did I talk to? Who did I embarrass myself in front of? Did I call my mom?…oh shit, DID I call my mom?! Okay no. Good. Thank God for that. Huh. These all seem to be from the same person. I don’t recognize the number. Oh good. Voicemail. Let’s listen.

Hey baby. It’s Krystal. I just wanted to thank you for being so sweet last night to my little brother. He really appreciated that ride back to Cookesville. He said you were really happy and laughed the whole way there. He just adores you. Just thought you should know. Bye, handsome.

…this is pretty bad. I have no idea who this chick is. I drove a HALF HOUR blacked out drunk with what I can assume to be a less than teenage kid in the car with me. Oh good. There’s another voicemail. This is going to be just as good.

Hey baby, it’s Krystal again. I forgot to thank you for ME last night too. Mmm, baby, you rocked my world. My girls at the club were asking why I was walking so funny! Hah! Care for a rematch at your place again tonight? Let me know, lover.

Huh. I DID get laid. By a stripper. Somehow this makes drunk driving better. Best to not think too much into it. What was I doing again? Oh, right. Golden Grahams. God, I’m hungry. Do we have even any PopTarts to last me through the drive to the store?

Apple cinnamon? Not with this hangover. Fuck. Eh. Might as well just take the Jetta since I can’t really see if my Camry is out there.

Eh. Not the best car, but what the hell. Alright let’s see if she WHAT THE HOLY SHIT IS IN THE BACKSEAT?! Is…that a SPONGEBOB COSTUME? What HAPPENED last night?!

I’m not asking. I’m not asking. I’m just going to drive to Publix, pick up some freaking Golden Grahams, maybe run by the bank to see just what the hell is in the safe deposit box.

*time passes*

Okay that’s not quite what I was expecting. Fifty thousand bucks in cash and a pinky ring with a gold nugget in it. I mean, what the hell. I’ll take it but…

FREEZE SCUMBAG! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR SLOWLY! HANDS IN THE AIR AND DON’T TEST US!

What the HELL?! Okay! Okay! I’ll cooperate! Just don’t shoot! Fuck! What is this?!

Perp in custody. Search the house.

Will you tell me what the hell is going on?!

Oh like you don’t know, asshole.

I don’t! I am working off the worst fucking hangover of my LIFE! I don’t remember anything that happened last night!

Last night? Son, the girl that we’re pretty sure we’ll find in your house has been missing for half a week.

Half a week? Girl? Oh shit…

That money in the box was the ransom money from the girl’s parents. You’re going away for a long time, sicko.

Can I just ask one question?

I guess. It won’t really matter.

Is her last name Ball?

Uh…no. It’s Johnson. Why?

I just…wanted to make a joke.

A joke? Son, if that girl is still alive, you at least won’t get the death penalty! You want to make jokes at a time like this?

Well, yeah. I guess you could say that it’s…

Son, if you make a pun, I will jam this nightstick where the sun don’t shine and make it look like suicide.

…okay.

*awkward silence*
——
(What the hell is this, Kaos? – ed.)

It’s called anti-humor!

(You’re right about that in the sense that if you put it next to humor, they will cause a cataclysm. We’re stopping here. Sorry, readers. He won’t be so rockfuck stupid next article, we promise. – ed.)

Comments
  1. Minttoann says:

    wait, what about her last name? >.< (doesn't get it)

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