Third Annual BF betleH Tournament

Third Annual BF betleH Tournament (http://www.betleh.com/cgi-bin/b3/YaBB.pl)

Day 3 - Finals >> Early morning >> The Worst Hangover Ever
(Message started by: So`l Mackenzie on Feb 25^th, 2005, 1:23am)

Title: The Worst Hangover Ever
Post by So`l Mackenzie on Feb 25^th, 2005, 1:23am

So'l's first mistake was to open his eyes when he woke up. A white hot fury brighter than the most dazzling star bored into his brain for an instant before his eyes slammed shut. That particular pain abated, a bit, but the rhythmic pounding headache kept going.

His second mistake was to try and sit up. The world slid out from under him, and his stomach tried to fallow it. He rolled over and heaved, but didn't get any satisfaction save a bitter dribble of bile.

Someone groaned, and it took a while for So'l to realize it was him. He didn't know where he was, or how he got there, and right at that moment, he didn't care.

“So, you're awake.” said God. Or maybe it wasn't God, just someone with an equally booming voice.

“Not so loud.” So'l tried to say. It came out “Nnso lod.”

The other person understood, which was a small miracle, and when the other man spoke again, it was in a softer voice. “You're in the brig. We found out passed out in one of the smaller bars last night, the shop owner said you were snoring so loud you were scaring off customers.”

“Lights.” mumbled So'l.

“Oh, yea, right. Computer, lights to thirty percent.” The last part was necessarily loud enough for the mic pickups embedded in the celling to hear the speaker, So'l shivered in agony. He jammed his hands over his ears, so didn't hear the forcefield go down, and jumped a little when someone put their hand on his shoulder. He felt a pressure on his neck, a spurt of cold, and the pounding in his head receded. Slightly. Ever so slightly.

“This should ease things up a bit, but won't get rid of your hangover entriely.”

“Why the hell not?” grumbled So'l, risking a quick peak. It didn't hurt so bad as he thought it would.

“Well, you're going to be released into your own custody, but we wanted to give you a little discouragement from getting that drunk on our station again. We have to throw you in the drunk tank again, you're not getting anything to take the edge off at all.”

“Sadist.” said So'l, but his heart wasn't in it. So'l tentatively opened his eyes again. The security officer was a young lieutenant (JG). “So I can get out of here now, right?”

“Yes. We'd appreciate it if you didn't give us reason to bring you back.”

So'l wanted to say something rude about not wanting to come back, but his usually well oiled wit had been rusted shut by the booze.

Once outside the security office, he made his way to a turbolift, and somehow managed to find his loaned quarters for the tournament. Once inside he ordered an orange juice, a sliced celery stalk, a hard boiled egg, and a bottle of hot sauce from the replicator. Supplies in hand, he set to work crafting a hangover cure that worked a little less than half the time. His mouth was so dry he was glad to get any liquid in it at all. He downed the vile concoction in one go, then flopped out on his bed and immediately went to sleep.