I never experienced a full-blown hangover before.
Or at least not one that left me feeling debilitated and sore all over, but right here, right then—probably the closest I was ever getting to one. And if this is what truly awaits a dude after a long night of asphyxiating one's liver, then consider me as abstained as the holiest, devoutest monk. I've seen the light and all that.
Perhaps a bit too literally…
Speaking of which, I haven't yet outright decided whether what I just snapped awake from was just a bizarre dream courtesy of my even more bizarre reality, or if I should be looking into a good lawyer and get around to writing a will sometime soon because as far as deathly omens go… being reprimanded by the actual manifestation of Death probably takes the cake.
In any case, I needed to tell someone. Irene, maybe. This involves her more than anyone else—her idea, after all.
Short chapter. Didn't get much alone time with my keyboard again. : ( Will try rectify as quick as I can. This chapter here just serves to summarize the remaining plot threads we still have hanging about.