The Morning After

Jacob half fell out of his bed. The previous night was a blur, especially after the margaritas. Their sour goodness had been irresistible.

Stumbling into the kitchen, he started a pot of coffee. Noticing someone on the couch, he figured Steve must be up, and turned to say “morning”.

Steve sat frozen, staring blankly at the wall. Felix, Steve’s dog, was working a bizarre contraption.

“Just a moment. I’m almost done. Those margaritas really mucked things up,” Felix said with Steve’s voice.

Jacob’s stomach churned, and he ran to the bathroom. Returning, Steve was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Rough night!” Steve said.

Jacob nodded. Felix, still on the couch, laid his head down on crossed paws, and winked.