Drunk As A Skunk Novels & Stories

I awake to the sound of my cell opening. I must have drifted off the sleep for a while—not long I think. The tiny electric sun above me still buzzes. Two warriors sway through my door, skunk drunk from the smell of them. One stumbles as he swings around examining my space catching himself on the wall. Laughter ensues.

She wrapped her arms around him, her hands sliding between the snakes, her fingers lost in their tangled, shimmering bodies as she rested her face on the raw weeping muscle of his back, the blood staining the seven red bruises on her face where he’d punched, punched, slapped, punched, bit, slapped, punched as he’d gotten another quick one in before tossing her skinny ass out the door. “Get it, man,” Skippy said as he twirled four yellow strands of platinum hair in his fingers. His dead friend looked toward the toilet. “It’s for you.” He belched, the taste of five Eves, seven Miss Emmas, and four Skippys on his tongue. His friends. Yeah, he was flyin’. He must be. This was all some fucked up

I was very sure it was laced with alcohol and I don't drink. I maneuvered my way through the crowd and got to a place that looked like the kitchen. It was filled with a bunch of teenagers. I could feel gazes burning through my skin but I ignored and went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. A drunk guy came and saw me. "Hey sexy. You lost?" He slurred. I almost scrunched my face is utter disgust as the awful stench of alcohol mixed with cigarette hit my nose but I kept a straight face and smiled a little.

“What the fuck do you want, man?” The Latin one was more like a caged animal, his chin low as he clocked the four of them from under surly eyebrows. “Come back for more?” The other druggies were awake now. One even peed his already soiled pants, probably thinking the men in suits were cops. The others sneered with gray teeth. If there is anything like a zombie in real life, it’s a Meth addict. Nate grabbed Darrell and held his arms. “Hold on. Just wait.”

My husband, Nathan Sidney, is the top doctor in the municipal hospital. However, he refuses to treat my stepsister, Jessica Jepson. He tells me that it's because Jessica's mother, Janice Ferguson, is Dad's mistress, which makes Jessica a mistress' daughter. They don't deserve to be treated by him because they're the ones responsible for tearing my family apart. During a family get-together, we play the "Have You or Haven't You" game. When it's my turn, I confidently say, "I've been treated by Nathan. You haven't." Jessica smiles and pulls out a medical report from her pocket. "Sorry, Cassie. You've lost." Nathan's signature is penned on the report. As I clutch the medical report, I

Livia I scrunched my nose in disgust, watching the disheveled man stumbling over his feet. I could smell the alcohol emitting from him. Another victim turns to alcohol to solve their problems. Something I knew all too well. I sigh, looking up at the sky. "You are drunk. Please leave my way before I make you regret laying your bloodshot eyes on me." A shabby-looking guy circled me. "Ooh, this one has a smart mouth. I think we will have fun taming her," he smirked.

Who knew compulsion would be this aggravating to deal with? A bunch of drunk people were now dancing, laughing, choking and making out, you name it. It was wild and a mess in here and I honestly don't understand how people could enjoy places like this. It was disgusting, noisy and anything but fun. Dexter dragged me through the crowd and my eyes widened when I saw Lianna near the bar, having a casual drink with Draven. Lianna looked fine. Draven on the other hand, was definitely drunk. I could tell even from this distance. The way his head kept swaying a little before he gulped down another shot.

If you have ever been drunk while driving you would understand how I feel, I almost is a shift of chances, I ran into a trailer because I was drunk and suddenly went into a sharp deep sleep on the starring, next was a bright headlight the vehicle sparkles out my consciousness when I knew I was face to face with a trailer. It was like a movie when a huge dog bounced on my car and pulled me out, the way my car was compressed from the smash of the heavy-duty trailer, one would describe the driver's body as shrinking into a squeezed paper. Drake pops up with an unplanned smile on his face and both of hugged each other like a brother who had missed the other and the unhugged.

When Skye consumed one too many drinks the moment my friends called me out on the dance floor, meaning when I wasn't noticing, he got a little too much tipsy. Somehow he had found himself on the dance floor and toward me. My friends were shocked beyond imagination to not only see him coming toward us but also when they saw the kind, professional and dapper man not like that anymore. He was wobbling on his two legs with his hair sticking out in all directions and a drunk smile plastered on his face.

The looks on their faces were funny. Now I get why she did it! Knives got Cobalt – the in-house bartender! - over and instantly there were four shorts of something that probably could fuel fighter-jets in front of us. I didn’t even ask but threw it back and swallowed, feeling it burn all the way down. Finally, I was starting to feel the familiar buzz of being drunk, and I lost some of my inhibitions. Perhaps fucking someone while thinking of Cracker wasn’t such a bad thing after all…