Hours passed by and time soon found itself at the witching hour. The boys were engaged in an old cheesy slasher movie they had muted and started narrating it due to the tequila bottle being passed around and the malt chasers.
"Robert? Do you think its safe here?" Jack said in a girlish voice.
"Of course Gina. Now let's breed like rabbits," Carey said deeply and then burped, causing them to all erupt in to childish laughter.
"Man, Bell, we know to have some fun, huh?" Michael said as he reached back for the tequila bottle.
"Yup. Five bucks says you can't finish that of in one breath," Carey said.
"You're on man," Michael said after observing the bottle. He bubbled down the rest of the bottle, worm and all, with a grimace. He then opened a coke to soothe his burning throat.
"Another five says you'll be farting fire balls," Carey added.
"Right now, sleep is good," Michael said as he laid on his stomach and buried his face in his arms, "Jack's already beat us to it, looks like,"
Carey looked back and Jack was zonked out with a half of bottle of a malt drink in his hand. Carey took the bottle out of his hand and popped the cap back on it to put it back in the refrigerator. He the grabbed a blanket and covered his friend before kicking off his shoes and lying down on the couch.