You scratch the stardust stubble on your chin with a long, prim fingernail as a stereotypical waitress complete with teal eye-shadow approaches.
“Would you like something to drink, sweetie, or do you know what you want?”
You’ve been feeling a little dizzy since last night’s…occurrence, so you hope something pungent will whack you back to Normsville.
“I’ll have a bowl of that Musky stew. And some black coffee.”
You ladle the stew into your mouth with a soup spoon and the coffee gushes its way down and settles like an oil slick around the chowder.
“You know, they must have intended this dish for hangover victims,” you think as the combination of smells massages your sinuses. Your nose is a little runny and the dizziness has made a backpedal brake into wooziness.
“Uh-oh,” you nearly say out loud as a biochemical fog rolls in over the moon-pie picture on the back of the table-side menu…
If you feel like making a run for the John and puking, go to page 80.
If you decide to shake it off and visualize a giant wad of cork in your stomach, go to page 202.
If you believe immediate cathartic release of all built-up substance is best for human nature in these situations, go to page 41.
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