"Make sure it's authentic not that fake shit! It might be cheaper but trust me not worth it, I mean if I am going to abuse my liver it should be in style, right?" Carey directed his dorm mate his last second reminders for his qualifications for the alcohol to be served at their party this evening. Some response was muttered followed by a slamming door that shock the pictures haphazardly hung on the cracked wall. Carey swirled his chair around making note of the Frito bags, six, would that be enough? He had to admit he was a bit addicted to them. He begins to stand to proceed to the door and yell out more directions, than reconsiders. Fritos should be the bottom of importance, especially with Brandee Reynolds rumored to be attending.