*Brody*
I stared at the glass in front of me, and it blurred. One time, there was one shot of vodka in front of me; the next time, two, and then, when I squinted my eyes, a series of indistinct shots. My hands seemed asleep on the bar counter, and my fingers barely moved towards the drink. My fingers moved like a snail, striving for their goal, and when they were close, it turned out that they missed the target.
"Flack you, father mucker," I slurred, completely rearranging the words coming out of my mouth.
"I think that's enough for you, mate!" a male voice from the other side of the bar said sternly. I tried to look at the guy, but he seemed to phase into a few, just like the previous shots.
"You're not about to piss yourself, are ya?" He asked as I finally focused my gaze and saw his
