The bar was dark and hot; the people inside were torrid but were being cooled by the night's wind that blew in gently through the open windows. Groups of joyous friends sat around many of the bar's tables, drinking merrily into the night.

The bartender sat quietly in the bar, wiping the glasses thoroughly, trying to ignore the people's conversations. The bartender dabbed the cloth on the top of an open bottle. There was a clear, acidic liquid inside. After doing so, he put the top back on the bottle, placed it on the table and continued to wipe the glasses.

Stewart McFadden fell onto a neighbouring table, a bottle of cider in his hand.

"Excuse me!" the people who were sitting around the table shouted, jumping up from their seats.

Stewart scraped himself off the table, still clasping his cider bottle. As he stumbled up, trying to get up straight, he drank another gulp of his drink.

"You are repulsive, sir!" a man bawled as Stewart wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

He shook his head at the sound of the people around him, he was having the time of his life and he needed to have some excitement. He had been away from his brothers for some time and he could not wait to meet up with them again.

He threw down the rest of his drink and threw it onto the table, causing it to shatter. Stewart let out a huge bark of a laugh.

"Come on everybody, have some fun!" he yelled, twirling around and burping loudly. He laughed again, dumb to how inebriated he had got himself.

"Get him out of here!" another man yelled, holding his aggravated wife close to himself.

The Bartender rolled his eyes and put down the glass and cloth.

"Come on now, you have had too many, let's go," he said with nearly no emotion in his voice. He had said those words so many time that they had nearly lost all meaning.

"Oh come on!" Stewart called, jumping away from the bartender and the customers. He grabbed an open bottle of cider and gulped the rest of the contents quickly. He then jumped onto the table but instead of feeling like he did before, or slightly more drunk, he felt exceedingly worse.

His stomach, which felt as if it had caught on fire, was crawling back up his gullet. He opened his blistering hot mouth and he fell to the floor. People jumped out of the way as Stewart scrapped the floor furiously, frequently coughing loudly, trying to make the scorched feeling go away.

The feeling stopped for a moment before coming back, angrily sweltering his insides. He threw himself around on the floor, his throat and stomach dissolving. With one last pungent breath, he became motionless.

The bottle of acidic cleaning liquid rolled across the floor from Stewart's open hand.