What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (ocX phil wrenneck-the hangover)

7) pockets

"What the fuck is that?" Stu asks quietly, looking over at the closet.
"Whose fucking baby is that?" Phil asks quietly. Almost as if he doesn't believe what he is seeing, rubbing his palms over his eyes as if trying to get rid of the hallucination.

"Alan, are you sure you didn't see anyone else in the suite?" Stu asks. Panic rising in his tone yet still trying to remain calm.
"Yeah, I checked all the rooms, no one's here. Check it's collar or something," Alan says.

"You dumb ass, it's a baby not a fucking dog" i mutter.
"Shh, Shh, It's okay, baby," Stu says, leaning forward in an attempt to quiet the baby. And I'm telling you it's crying is doing nothing for the pounding in my head.

"Stu, we don't have time for this. Let's go hook up with Doug, we'll deal with the baby later," Phil says, backing up slightly this man plus children is a no how he is a teacher astounds me.

"Phil, we're not gonna leave a baby in the room. There's a fucking tiger in the bathroom!" Stu says, standing back up to face Phil. 'Shit I forgot about that' I think to myself.

"It's not our baby," he shrugs. And I nod along. "Yeah, I gotta side with Stu on this one," Alan says. Never mind if Alan agrees with something the idea is complete and utter rubbish.

"Phil," I say, looking up at him. "Alright, fine. Okay, we'll take it with us. Could you at least just find some pants?" Obviously following my own train of thought.

You all stand in the elevator, myself and Phil leaning against the back wall, Alan standing in front of you and stretching as the baby sits in a front pouch carrier thing, and Stu standing on the other side as he holds ice to his mouth. Still in shock over the loss of his tooth. Usually I'd me more aware that a baby is strapped to Alan's chest but as I said before my head is taking priority at the current moment.

"I feel like shit," I mumble. "You look like it too" phil's responds cheekily. "Oh yeah well I still look better than you" I say nudging him slightly with my elbow. "Touché".

"Why can't we remember a goddamn thing from last night?" Stu asks.

"Excess amounts of alcohol," I say. "Because, we obviously had a great fucking time. Why don't you just stop worrying for one minute? Be proud of yourself," Phil says.

The elevator door opens, an older woman walking in and smiling at the baby. "Oh, how cute. What's his name?" she asks, Alan staring straight ahead.

"Ben," Phil says, trying to make the situation less awkward than Alan is making it be for whatever reason. "Carlos," Alan says right after Phil, and I feel an almost obligation to roll my eyes at this oath of a man hitting my head against the cold metal wall behind me .

"Carlos?" Phil repeats. With the same annoyed tone I'm scolding alan with in my head.

We make our way down to outside dining are the sun abusing us as we attempt to hide in the shade.

"Hey, Phil, look," Alan says, earning all of your attention as he holds Carlos' little hand, pretending he is jerking himself off. "He's jacking his little wenis," he laughs.

"Pull yourself together, man," Phil chuckles, sipping the coffee in front of him. And I laugh along after all it was kinda funny.
"Carlos, not at the table," Alan says, both you and Phil slowly giving in and chuckling. Stu walks back over to the table, still holding the ice to his mouth as he sits down at the empty seat.

"I looked everywhere. Gym, casino, front desk. Nobody's seen Doug. He's not here," Stu says hitting the chair like an overgrown potato.

"So- you're telling me- our friend could be absolutely fucking anywhere right now because none of us can recall one damn thing that happened last night?" I ask way too sarcastically.

"Hey- no. Stop freaking Mattie out, Stu. He's fine, he's a grown man. Seriously, Stu, you gotta calm down. Here, have some juice," Phil says, handing Stu a full glass of orange juice. Stu immediately leans over, puking onto the pavement. I glance away unable to look in fear if I did I'd follow his movements. People around us begin to shake their heads disapprovingly.

"We're hungover, fuck off," I say, but they still continue to stare at us .
"This is Vegas! If you don't like it, sit somewhere else," you say, all of them quickly looking away. Not like it's the first time someone has ever barfed in Vargas, far from it.

"Thanks," Stu mutters. "I can't have juice right now," he moans when he sees the cup again.

"Okay. Alright. Let's just track this thing," Phil says as he turns over a napkin, finding the pen in the middle of the table. "What's the last thing we remember doing last night?" Phil asks.

"Well first thing was, we were on the roof, and we were having those shots of Jäger," Alan says, Stu retching again.
"Yeah, I vividly remember you trying to get us all to cut our hands open," I say. Cringing as I recall the memory.

"Then we had dinner at The Palm, right?" Phil asks.

"Yeah, I remember leaving after that but I don't remember where we went." I state.
"That's right. And then we played craps at the Hard Rock, and I think Doug was there," Alan says.

"That sounds right," Phil nods, jotting it down. "No, no, no. He definitely was."
"Yeah, you know what guys? I don't even remember going to dinner," Stu says.
"I know," Phil admits, dropping his pen and leaning back in his chair. A sigh of defeat leaving his lips as he does so.

"What the fuck? I don't think I've ever been this hungover," he says, running his hands through his hair.

"I see you obviously don't remember the summer before we graduated," I say. "Your right I don't remember a single day of it" he laughs giving me a high five from across the table.

"After the Hard Rock, I blacked out. It was like emptiness," Alan laughs, Stu shaking his head at him.

"Okay, we have up until 10 pm, so that gives us a 12-hour window where we could have lost him," Phil says.

"What is this?" Alan asks, pulling something from his pocket.

"Oh my god, that is my tooth," Stu says, grabbing it from him. "Why do you have that? What else is in your pockets?" And I let out a snot of laughter at the interaction.

"This is a good thing, no. Check your pockets, check your pockets. Do you have anything?" Phil asks, tossing some loose change on the clean plate as all of you search your pockets.

"Um, half a phone number, a condom, a burned receipt to god knows where....and a syringe"I say, quickly tossing the bundle of seemingly random objects onto the table as Phil and Alan laugh. "Other than that, I've just got change," i say.

"I have an ATM receipt from the Bellagio. 11:05 for- eight hundred dollars! I am so fucked," Stu says. And I feel a twinge of sadness in my hart. No one should feel this way in regards to fear of someone you are supposed to love.

"I have a valet ticket from Caesars. Looks like we got in at 5:15 am," Alan says.

"Oh, shit. We drove last night?" Phil asks, rubbing his face.

"Driving drunk. Classic," Alan laughs. Stu mocks his laughter, obviously just as annoyed with him as the rest of us.

"What's on your arm?" I ask, gently touching the wristband around Phil's wrist. Phil glances at it, quickly taking a second look once we realise what it is we gasp in unison .

"What the fuck is that?" he asks.

"Jesus, Phil," Stu says.

"You were in the hospital last night," I say, Phil glancing up at me.
"I guess so, yeah," he says.
"You okay?" Alan asks. And now I'm fighting the urge to smack this dumb twat.
"Yeah, Alan, I'm fine," he says in an obvious tone, the dumbness of Alan hurting our heads.

"What the hell is going on?" Stu asks.
"Stu, Stu, this is a good thing. We have a lead now," Phil says.

"Hey, Stu, watch this," Alan says, pretending the baby is jerking off again. Stu lets a small chuckle slip, quickly pulling himself together again. "You ever see a baby do that?" Alan laughs.

"Dude, Alan, not cool," Stu says. Wrong moment.