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95. “I think I’m drunk.”
Josh held up a beer, grinning as he drained what was left of it. He had stopped counting his drinks around an hour ago when he had forgotten how to count. What he hadn’t forgotten, however, was a bet he had made with the blonde sitting across from him. A bet that Alfred may not have even agreed to, but that was irrelevant at the moment because Josh was convinced he had won.
“What’d I tell ya, Al. Nobody beats me in a drinking contest,” he slurred proudly. “You never even stood a cha-” Josh trailed off, squinting as he tried to focus his eyes. He shifted his gaze to his right and noticed his companion sitting on the other side of the room, then looked back in front of him. Apparently the form he had been speaking to was not Alfred, but a chair with a coat hanging from it. With a snort, he put his now empty bottle down on the table.
“I think I’m drunk.”











