The morning After

The morning after Simon’s party, Steve found himself awakening perched on top of a brick wall. Or rather he found himself being woken up by two police officers, who did not seem much pleased by the task.
‘Hello sir!’ one of them said to him loudly. ‘Do you know where you are?’
At this point Steve was not awake enough to realise that he was not home, all he could tell was that he was lying on something solid. ‘Did I fall asleep in the bath again?’ he managed to say. ‘If you want to go to the toilet, don’t mind me. Just pull the shower curtain closed.’
Ten minutes later they had roused him to consciousness. Steve had very little memory of what had happened the night before, so he couldn’t understand why the police officers kept asking if he wanted to see a doctor. He told them that he was fine and was just needing to be pointed to the bus stop so he could get home. The officers walked him to a bus shelter, and after he had assured them he was fine they left. Eventually a bus came and Steve got on. After three stops he got off, crossed the road, and got on a bus going in the right direction.
By the time he got to his neck of the woods, Steve was beginning to feel sicker than that fat guy in the pie contest flashback in Stand By Me. He desided that the remedy would be food. ‘Something greasy, with beans,’ he said out loud, startling a passing traffic warden. His mind made up, Steve made his way to the nearest greasey plate café.
When he got there he saw that the breakfast menu had photos, so he just had to point and grunt to order. He sat down with his coffee and began to peruse a copy of The Daily Star that someone had left.
Steve was getting hungrier, but when the food came he was mortified. He had somehow managed to order a breakfast without beans! He was too embarrassed to say anything. ‘I’d better eat some of it so they don’t get offended,’ he thought to himself. He ate one of the sausages, both eggs and some of the mushroom. When he went to pay the guy there noticed half the plate was still left there, and said to him, ‘problem with food?’
‘Can’t eat,’ muttered Steve, pointing at his head. ‘Dizzy.’
‘Ah yes, dizzy,’ said the guy sympathetacly. ‘Is too bad.’
Steve ended up going to two other places before he managed to get breakfast with beans. By this time he was too full to eat them, his feet were sore and he felt like he didn’t know whether to poop or puke. He hoped that he wouldn’t end up doing both at once. Last time that happened it took a month to get the carpet clean.
He asked the guy in the third place if he could wrap the food up to take home. He said sure, then pored the food into a plastic bag. It was only when Steve was half way home that he saw a mixture of bean juice and egg yolk on his trousers and realised the bag was leaking. He threw it away in disgust, but it bounced of a lamppost and exploded over his shoes.
Steve sighed resignedly and made his way home. When he go there he take off all his clothes and get into bed. Then his housemate started shouting at him so he got out and went to his own bed.
Half an hour later he jumped up and ran to the toilet. He was there most of the day.

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Schmurgen Jonerhaffs

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