Warning: yucky puke ahead. Also, what's with the rulers? Why don't they work?
(...No, I don't mean the administrative efficacy of the Fire Lord's newly appointed ministers of fun, animal riding, and boomerang trade.)

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"To Alcohol: The Cause of, and Solution To, All of Life's Problems"

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I'd rather have a beer
Than win "Father of the Year"

- Homer Simpson

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Meanwhile, somewhere else in the enormous Fire Nation palace…

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The guards taking the semi-conscious Ozai back to his cell got a lovely surprise when dinner suddenly made an encore appearance on their boots.

"Ooh, GROSS!" One guard yelled, flinging the ex-Fire Lord's left arm away. Ozai dropped to the ground and proceeded to heave up another pile of richly wine-saturated food. The guard holding his right arm grimaced, but staunchly refused to let go.

The other two guards wrinkled their noses in disgust. One went to find a servant to come and clean up the mess in the hallway and get a bucket, though by the sheer amount their prisoner was puking up, they'd need something much bigger.

"For Agni's sake, how much did this guy drink?" Guard one asked, shaking the detritus off his foot.

"Well, last I counted, he had about eight bottles of wine before smoking up with the hippies," Guard Two said. He had gathered Ozai's hair from around his face and was holding it out of the potted plant the Firebender had somehow managed to crawl to. "Before that, he'd had some cocktails, a few shots, and I think I saw him having some beer with King Bumi."

Ozai loudly spewed forth another gout of chunky red-brown vomit. Guard Two took a ribbon from his pocket and tied the ex-Fire Lord's hair up, then left him to cling to the edge of the terra cotta pot on his own.

"I almost feel sorry for him," Guard Three said, wrinkling his nose. "Almost."

"You shouldn't. If it weren't for the Firebending suppressant, he'd have killed us all by now," Guard One said grimly.

Ozai heaved, the contents of his stomach overflowing from the potted plant. The twelve courses of rich gourmet fusion cooking came up backwards, starting with dessert, and flowing all the way back to pre-dinner cocktails. If one looked carefully, they might even see breakfast in that mess. But one would not choose to look too carefully.

Guard Two snickered. "You should have seen Zuko on his first night of drunkenness. Just after the war ended and we had that big party, I had to help drag him up to his room." The narrative was briefly interrupted by loud moan from the prone drunk. "Of course, Miss— pardon me, Fire Lady Katara went to nurse him that night. Totally inappropriate for a peasant girl to be visiting the new Fire Lord alone in his chambers, but you could tell they were in love even back then."

"Even if they were constantly trying to kill each other," One nodded in agreement.

Three snapped his fingers. "Hey, I was there that night on guard duty around the corner from Zuko's room. I gave her directions." The other two guards stared at him. "What? It's not like I could have said no to a war hero, much less a healer! And besides, there's no better way to work off a hangover than with a tall, cool drink of Water, know what I mean?" Three made nudge-nudge-wink-wink motions and began humping the air vulgarly.

One smacked him hard in the back of the head, knocking the man's helmet askew. "I tell you, the royal family doesn't hold their liquor well."

"The male side, anyhow. Princess Azula drinks like a fish." Two said thoughtfully.

"Not Zuko. That night, he had two coolers and a shot of cactus spirit and he was wasted."

"Coolers?" Three sniggered.

"Hey, he was pretty straight-edge up until that night. From what I hear, he almost never drank on that little boat of his. Now, he takes a nightcap every night to get to bed."

"The stresses of ruling a nation, eh?"

"That, or having Sokka for a brother-in-law."

"Or Princess Azula in your gene pool. Hell, I'm not related to her and she still drives me to drink."

The three guards nodded sagely as Ozai continued to barf.

"Man, is he still going?"

"There was a lot to eat."

"Where's Li?"

"Gone to get someone to clean this up, I guess." Two gestured at the pools of rancid, multi-coloured sick everywhere.

Ozai heaved, but this time, only clear liquid came up.

"Oh good. Looks like he's near the end of it."

"Thank gods. The janitor is not going to like this."

"The rugs have just been shampooed, too."

"Crap."

The prisoner's body undulated as he dry heaved, but nothing came up. Ozai leaned heavily against the wall, panting, looking like he'd just been trampled by a stampeding herd of ostrich-horses.

"Get him some water or something."

"He'll get it when we bring him back to his cell. He'll need a lot of water. Some plain bread will help him soak up the alcohol in his stomach, too."

"I hear you should add a teaspoon of salt to the water. For better absorption or something like that."

"Willowbark tea. That's the answer to all hangovers."

"Tomato juice always does it for me."

"Really? I always go for orange juice."

"I don't like sweet things after I've had a lot to drink."

The guards were so busy discussing hangover cures that they didn't notice their prisoner slowly getting to his feet.

"He really shouldn't have been mixing drinks to begin with. What's that rhyme? 'Beer before liquor… get drunk quicker'?"

"No, no, it's 'Beer before liquor, couldn't be sicker.'" Two said.

"'Liquor before beer, you're in the clear.'" One parroted back happily.

"How about, 'Don't watch your prisoners, and you're dead?'" Ozai said lowly.

The three guards turned, eyes widening in horror as ex-Fire Lord Ozai gave them a sinister grin, his hands filled with fire.

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Duhn-Duhn-DUHNNNN! (I promise I'm putting this series to bed soon. Can't you tell by the building climax?)