𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭
🥂🥂🥂
When she gets the call from her "brother", Kirsten practically jumps for joy at the opportunity to go to Vegas with her best friends for his bachelor party. She lives for a party, especially when it's...
After a constant back and forth, we played a game of rock, paper, and scissors to determine what poor bastard had to get the tiger out of the bathroom. When Alan woke up, he was of some help and came up with the idea to lure the tiger out and drug it. Stu, who holds the raw meat we ordered from downstairs that's laced with Alan's spare drugs, awkwardly stands beside the bathroom door.
"This does not seem fair." Stu whines.
"It's Rock, Paper, Scissors." Phil shrugs. "There's nothing more fair."
"Alan should do it." Stu points at the man in question.
"Alan took a punch from Mike Tyson," I state. "Come on. For Doug."
"Why are you peppering the steak?" Stu asks Alan, who stands in front of me. "You don't know if tigers like pepper."
"Tigers love pepper. They hate cinnamon." Alan lets go of the steak.
"Phil, just do it. You should do it." Stu looks at Phil who is sitting beside me.
"I would, but you lost." Phil shrugs. "It wouldn't be right."
"Okay, I jammed five roofies in there." Alan smiles, happy at his work. "Just go in there and throw it into him."
"Fine." Stu sighs, walking closer to the door.
"Make sure he eats the whole thing." I remind him, watching him slowly walk into the bathroom.
Phil comes screaming out. "What do we do now?"
"We wait."
And we did, but it felt like ages. It got to the point where I was forced to acknowledge Phil's presence beside me. I'm still sitting on the couch, but Phil is closer to me, his arm over my shoulder as he leans his head back, just like when we were driving down here before all this shit went down. A part of me wanted to talk to Phil about everything that's happened between us, but I knew it was the wrong time. We're all stressed and Stu and Alan are in the room.
"What do tigers dream of When they take a little tiger snooze?" Stu sits at the piano, bored and starts to sing. "Do they dream of mauling zebras or Halle Berry in her Catwoman suit? Don't you worry your pretty striped head. We're gonna get you back to Tyson and your cosy tiger bed. And then we're gonna find our best friend Doug and then we're gonna give him a best-friend hug." I can't help but smile at him. "Doug. Doug. Doug, Dougie, Dougie, Doug, Doug. But if he's been murdered by crystal-meth tweakers," The tiger groans and we hear its body drop to the floor. "Well, then we're shit out of luck."
We wrap the tiger's unconscious body in a bed sheet, pushing it on a cart and out of the hotel. We try to ignore the stares we get from strangers and place the body in the back of the car. I race to grab the passengers seat, not wanting to be stuck sitting in the back with a tiger.
