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Chapter 20: The Hangover

Dear Journal

I need to um… can’t think straight. I can’t seem to open my eyes more than just a slit.
I need to figure out where the hell I am. I appear to be in some sort of room. Lets see… four walls; ceiling; door; yes, definitely a room of some kind.

I manage to sit up ever so slowly there are bodies everywhere dressed in Pirates outfits, bikinis and sailor uniforms. What the hell happened? I seem to have water wings on, a lifejacket and I’m wearing a pirate flag as a skirt other than that I am completely naked.

I try to move but some blonde woman dressed in a sailor’s costume is lying on my arm which has gone completely numb from loss of blood. My ears are ringing, my head is pounding and yet I seem to have the song “Girls just wanna have fun stuck in my head”. It really is a catchy song. I try hum the tune but realise that my throat is as arid and devoid of water as the plastic plants in the Customer Service Department and someone seems to have lined the roof of my mouth with cotton.

What the hell happened last night?

I look around the room to see if I can get any sort of clue as to how I managed to get into this room dressed like a Special-Ed Pirate, surrounded by all these other shipwrecked outcasts and passed out next to some woman who may or may not be part leech, as she seems to not only have removed all blood flow in my arm, but I am unable to get her to let go.

I hope she isn’t dead and this is some sort of rigor mortis-like grip that she has on my arm and forever I will have to drag her corpse to and from work… ugh I can’t be thinking of things like that now. To be honest I can’t really be thinking of anything right now as ever thought seems too painful. Merely existing seems to hurt. Right now I will concentrate on breathing and not throwing up.

I don’t feel so good.

Ok , I feel a bit better and only need to concentrate on breathing now. Luckily there was an empty bowl of dip nearby and to be quite honest the vomit kind of looks like the dip used to. Thankfully too, in my rush to find some sort of vessel to regurgitate in I managed to free myself from my prison of passed out blonde girl.

However in jerking myself free I may have woken her. Well, it was either that or when she rolled off the table and slammed her head into the floor. Either way, she’s awake.

In what must be considered the cliché of the day she asked where she was and what had happened. She asked for something to eat, but I thought that a bowl of fresh dip wasn’t what she wanted to see right now.

Slowly more and more bodies regained movement throughout the room, which was now becoming more and more recognisable as the Centrifico Technologies Boardroom. (Not that I had ever been before, I just recognised it from the orientation DVD we watched on my first day here).

Everyone seemed just as confused as the next and yet completely calm, that was until someone said “I think the doors locked”

 
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Posted by on July 15, 2011 in journal

 

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