"My Lord, have you been drinking alcohol?" asked Bellatrix.
"Hell, yeah!" snapped Voldemort. "Now shut up!"
"He's very drunk," said Lucius. "He had ten glasses of Vodka this morning."
"I didn't," slurred Voldemort. He started unconsciously rocking back and forth in his chair. He was drooling all over himself.
"I think he needs a day off," said Bellatrix. She grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him up the stairs. "We can resume this meeting tomorrow."
Bellatrix put him in bed as he stared at her with unfocused eyes.
"Don't go anywhere," she said with a menacing tone. Then she turned and went downstairs for tea. When she returned, Voldemort was gone.
The next morning…
Lucius threw his newspaper down in anger.
"Three pureblood families turned into farm animals!" he growled in disgust. "And nineteen pureblood children turned into cats! Why did you let the Dark Lord escape, Bellatrix?"
"I didn't think he was that unstable!" said Bellatrix defensively.
Then Voldemort apparated into the room.
"What happened yesterday?" he asked. "Why was I in an alley?"
Bellatrix looked at him sternly. "Please, my Lord, don't ever drink Vodka again."