The moment Trent gained his senses; he instantly wished he'd never gained them back.

"AH! What is wrong with you?!" Someone shouted. Trent covered his ears, not wanting to hear what was next.

"Um, you know, I should get… Going…" Trent said, starting to crawl away from the angry person.

"What do you mean what's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" Trent realized that there were two girls screaming at each other.

"Yeah… I'm just gonna go now…" Trent said again. The angry girl grabbed Trent by the collar and pulled him back to where he was sitting.

"Hey, not so fast, Trent, you're not going anywhere until she apologizes!" ticked-off girl number one said.

"Me? Apologize to you?!" ticked-off girl number two screamed. "You're the one who stole my boyfriend!"

Hey… wait a minute… Trent thought. Are Gwen and Heather still arguing?

"Trent, tell her that I didn't do anything to her!" ticked-off girl number one said.

"Don't you dare drag Trent into this! You and I both know that you tried to steal him from me!" ticked-off girl number two said.

"Uh… can I please go?" Trent said.

"NO!" ticked-off girls one and two said.

"Okay… just don't hurt me…" Trent whimpered.

"Listen, Heather… Just leave me alone… forever… and you won't get hurt… well, by me, at least." Ticked-off girl number two said. She grabbed Trent's shirt sleeve, causing him to fall back a little. When Trent regained his footing, he looked at ticked-off girl number two. Her face was full of rage, and Trent got scared just by looking at it. He'd never seen Gwen so mad before.

"Why would I listen to you?" Heather said. "You're a freaky Goth girl."

"Oh, you better take that back…" Gwen growled.

"Ooohhhh…. You've done it now, Heather…" Trent said.

Heather didn't seem to hear him. "Gwen's a freaky Goth girl… Gwen's a freaky Goth girl…" She said in a sing-song manner. Gwen's normally pale face was turning red.

"SHUT UP!" Gwen shouted as she slapped Heather. Heather fell to the ground after she was slapped. Gwen gasped. "I-I'm sorry… I didn't- I mean, you were..."

Heather stood up. She had a red mark on her face shaped like Gwen's hand. "That's it…" Heather punched Gwen in the cheek. Gwen fell backwards and landed in Trent's arms. She got up, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and tackled Heather, causing her to fall onto the ground. The two girls were rolling on the ground, punching, kicking, and slapping each other. Trent looked at them with a look of pure horror. Heather grabbed a chunk of Gwen's hair, and Gwen pulled off Heather's shoe and started hitting her with it.

"Um, Gwen, you should, uh, stop hitting Heather with her shoe…"

The fighting continued for several more minutes. Eventually, Trent started to ignore the screams and sounds of bones breaking and decided to take a nap. Gwen then stood up and held up her hand (oh, yeah. did I mention that she had two dislocated fingers?).

"Hey, Heather, why are we fighting?" Gwen asked. Trent then woke up.

Heather shrugged- well, at least she tried. It's kind of hard to shrug with a dislocated shoulder. "You know, I don't know."

"Wanna get a few drinks?" Gwen asked. She was missing a tooth and she had an extremely bloody and puffy lip.

"Why not?" Heather said. The two linked arms like they had been friends forever. Trent instantly pictured Katie and Sadie.

The three walked to a bar and the all ordered drinks. Trent ordered a Shirley Temple. Gwen thought she ordered one, but the waiter misunderstood her. He brought her a Miller Light. Heather ordered the strongest drink they had.

"Eh, ain't you too young to be drinkn' alcohol?" The waiter asked.

"Aren't you a little too old to be wearing braces?" Heather asked. The bartender covered his mouth and walked away after giving the three their drinks.

"How did you know he had braces?" Trent asked. He took a sip of his Shirley Temple.

"What? I don't know who you're talking about." Trent figured she'd either taken a blow to the head or she'd already started drinking and had already gotten drunk.

She's probably suffering from both… Trent thought. She shrugged and drank more of his drink.

A few hours had passed, and by that time Gwen and Heather were drunk and Trent had spent a total of 347 dollars on drinks (don't worry, most of them were Shirley Temples, but there was enough to get the two girls drunk.). Heather was dancing on the table, injuries and all (really, all she had was hair loss and a dislocated shoulder and a lot of bruises and cuts.). Gwen, on the other hand, had a broken arm, a puffy face, and a fractured funny bone. But she did manage to have fun.

"Okay, boys… things not to say to a police officer number twelve…." Gwen said. She was making up random quotes and things of that sort. Trent pounded his head on the bar table. The bartender with braces walked over to him, cleaning a glass also.

"Hey, buddy. Those two drunk kids yours?" He asked.

"Unfortunately, yes." Trent said. He let his head fall on the table face first. He held up his finger. "One Shirley Temple, please."

The bartender shook his head. "I think you've had enough. Don't you have to go to the bathroom?"

Trent was silent. "Not anymore…"

The bartender freaked out; dropping the glass he was holding. "WHAT?!"

Trent laughed. "Just kidding. Would you tell me where the bathrooms are?"

The bartender was relieved. "Down the hall on your right. Once you find the door that has vomit smeared on it and that has a few passed out drunk guys lounging around, you've found the right place."

Trent got up and walked to the bathroom. On his way, he thought about what was happening. Oh, great. I've got two drunken girls on my hands. He was interrupted when he heard some glass breaking, Heather's laugh, and a loud thump. Hm. Heather must have passed out. Anyway, how am I going to get myself out of this mess?

Trent reached the vomit-covered door. He had to push away a few drunks to get in the door. When he got into the bathroom, he saw Owen, dressed in a bunny suit standing there.

"Hi, Trent. I know you want to get yourself out of this mess, so here's what you have to do. Wake up."

Trent stood there, pondering what Owen had just said. "Okay."

When Trent woke up, he had a horrible headache.

I thought you got hangovers after you've been drinking. I guess when you dream about two drunken girls, this is what happens. Trent just shook off the feeling and headed to the mess hall.