Page 81 of Happy Hour

She stepped inside the bedroom, dressed in a cream-colored business suit. “Nice to see you two among the living today,”

“Why do you look so nice today?” I asked still petting Emma who was cradled to my chest like a baby kangaroo,stillcrying.

“Bitch please—Ialwayslook nice.” Alley chided. “What’s the matter with her?” she motioned to Emma.

I gave Emma a comforting squeeze and kissed her Porky pine head. “She’s upset about her tattoo.” I whispered because talking at a normal volume even hurt my head.

“Wellsheshould have thought about that beforeshedrank four long island ice teas and helped you finish off a fifth of Tequila, now shouldn’tshe?”

“Jesus Alley,” I balked. “Harsh much?Shewas only having a good time.”

“I don’t feel sorry any of you.She,” Alley pointed to Emma who was now staring at the two of us in our heated conversation. “should have said no when Spencer told her what to write,”

Emma snapped into action. “First of all,sheis still in the goddamn room andshewould like to be referred to in the first person. And second,” her gaze narrowed at Alley. “Spencer did what?”

At that point, I was actually worried about Emma. The vein in her forehead was bright blue and looked like it was about to burst at any moment. Just to be sure, I poked it with my index finger. The vein squished under my touch.

“Where is Spencer?” Emma glared slapping my hand away. “I’m gonna kill him.”

I sat back on the bed tossing the pillow over my face again.

Unfortunately, for me, my surprises for the morning were not over once I was lying there. It feltawfullybreezy down below.

Reaching south, I checked out the situation and sure enough, I had no underwear on.

“Damn it.” I mumbled to myself.

Now what am I going to do for underwear?

Maybe Jameson had some in here, or I could just go commando because he’s apparently not here to realize that I’m not wearing any.

At least I had someone’s shirt on and a bra.

Then I thought,where in the hell is Jameson?

Emma, planning Spencer’s execution, was scrambling around the room trying to find clothes to wear because she was only in Jaspers button down shirt and cowboy boots. Why she wore cowboy boots to sleep in is beyond me but clearly, we weren’t thinking last night judging by the tattoos.

“Where is Spencer?” Emma asked again pulling on her jeans she found near the door.

“I have no idea.” Alley answered, not looking up from her Blackberry. “The last time I saw them they were puking behind the hotel.”

“How do younotknow where they are?” I asked confused. “Didn’t you stay here last night?”

What in the hell happened last night?

“No,” finally Alley looked up with an amused expression. “After Jameson puked in the Expedition for the second time, I booked this hotel room for you guys and I stayed at the Hilton down the street. I needed sleep and you guys...well I have no ideawhatwent on after you came back here. Obviously sleep didn’t occur.” she looked over at the wall and took a double take, her mouth falling open.

Both Emma and I followed her gaze to the wall and gasped as well.

And there, on theverywhite wall was averylarge...dick, spray-painted from floor to ceiling, complete with hairy balls and veins.

Hairy balls and veins wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was howrealit actually looked. It was disturbing that someone could draw something that well with spray paint.

Eventually we averted our gaze from the monstrous dick on the wall and finally looked around the rest of the room, for the first time. It seemed in our discovery of the tattoos; we never noticed the pure insanity throughout the room.

There were probably a hundred beer bottles scattered throughout the room. Pillows were everywhere along with sheets, blankets, and the curtains from the windows.

You’d think a toga party was thrown in here or something. In the corner was a bouncy house blown up with what looked to be an entire grocery stores supply of toilet paper stuffed into it, unrolled.

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