The Hangover Phil Novels & Stories

"I guess when I get drunk, I don't remember much of what happened. Besides, this is only the second time I got drunk. The first one was at the bar where Mildy and I worked. We drank and then I got too drunk. And then the next day when I woke up, I had no recollection of what happened. I don't even know how Mildy and I got home safely." "Eat this hot soup and then take the paracetamol here to ease your hangover," Phil suddenly changed his mood. When I glanced at him, I saw that his face was frowning. "After you eat, get yourself ready. Grandpa is downstairs waiting for you to wake up."

Chuks smiled to his friend. 'Do I really want to get over her?" Phil asked himself ..... ..... ....... After spending good quality time with His friend, he returned home and just as he was abouting climbing up the stairs, he saw Sara taking out a bottle of Wine and glass. He immediately stopped her "Who’s that for?” he asked her "Its for Madam?" "Where is she?" "At the pool" What better opportunity to put the sedative than now "Wait here" Phil told Sara and ran upstairs, got the Tramadol and he came down. "Get me a glass of juice" he said to Sara

- Sunny the man now is standing not far from us but we cant tell who it was due to his hair is covering his face entirely he is now grabbing the hair band on his neck but because of this we are now in full alert state and any malicious move from this man will result for a full force attack from us the man wears the headband so that the hair now is not covering his face "PHIL!"- All "yes, at last all of you know its me"- Phil "UUUU!!! we thought you're a bad guy!"- David "hahaha sorry i dont have any time to wear my headband due to its too hard for me to make all the zombie go away in this building after it fall earlier"- Phil thanks god it was Brother Phil, he told us that most of the zombie

“If you die after all this, Tim’s going to kill me.” Despite everything, I snorted softly. “Noted.” I shoved the stairwell door open and practically dragged Phil inside. The stairs were narrow and dark, emergency lights flickering overhead while smoke followed us down like a living thing. Phil stumbled midway. I caught him immediately. “Stay awake.” “I am awake,” he muttered weakly. “Unfortunately.” “Phil.” “I’m fine.” He clearly wasn’t. Blood stained the side of his shirt from debris that had torn through him during the blast, but the idiot kept acting like it was a paper cut.

“Oh, hey. Good morning to you too.” “C-Can I have an advil? Or paracetamol? Any medicine that will cure hangover.” Ian nodded his head. “But first, tell me why did you get drunk in the middle of the day and don’t come up with any excuses. Because it’s clear for me the reason.” “W-What is it?” “It starts with an H and ends with letter R.” --

Atlene opens his eyes slowly and painfully. He reaches up slowly to touch his head and feels very weak and giddy. He looks around still lying face up on the very relaxing bed and he realizes that he does not remember anything from the previous night. What had happened to him? He feels like a person who had downed several bottles of rum and vodka the night before. The hangover is crazy, but he honestly does not exactly remember downing any bottles of anything alcoholic. He rubs his face with the open palm of his right hand, and slowly opens his eyes, trying to not move his head too fast and anger the monsters playing a game of throw and catch in his head.

He'd been too tired the night before and had forgotten to take it. At that moment, he believed that his hangover would be the death of him. Noticing a glass of warm water on his bedside table, his lip curled mockingly. Phoebe had left so decisively the night before, yet here she was, back again. He drank the water, which helped alleviate his headache slightly. He texted Evan, saying, "I won the bet." Evan was both speechless and impressed. He texted back, "Can't Phoebe have a backbone for once? She's spoiling you so much that it's getting ridiculous! God, I can't believe I lost just like that!

Emily’s POV The sunlight filtering through the blinds felt like punishment. I groaned, dragging the pillow over my face, trying to escape the stabbing light that sliced into my skull like a thousand tiny ice picks. My tongue felt like sandpaper, my stomach twisted in confused rebellion, and my thoughts moved sluggishly, like they were coated in syrup. A hangover. A real, undeniable, soul-splitting hangover. How quaint. I hadn't had one in so long that I almost forgot what it was like to feel both dead and alive at once.

As she navigated the discomfort of the hangover, she made a silent vow to approach future celebrations with moderation and mindfulness, cherishing the moments of joy and connection while prioritizing her well-being and peace of mind. As Hazel sat at the kitchen table, nursing her hangover with sips of water, a mix of regret and reflection washed over her. The pounding headache and queasiness served as a stark reminder of the consequences of overindulgence, prompting her to reflect on the balance between celebration and self-care.

Another chuckle threatens to emerge, but I swallow it down. “Ow! For fucks sake, Hailey! This is workplace abuse!” “Then stop running your mouth about me!” “You’d know I wasn’t if you weren’t so addicted to violence. I was inviting Hannah here to come with us like you asked me to,” Phil cries out, rubbing the affected area with his palm. Hailey turns to me with a smile, her green orbs threatening to pull me into her universe. “So? Are you coming?” She asks, and I smile at both of them.