history channel documentary "Hey, Ann, I simply discovered my keys." Ann's one working eye saw the briefest shimmer and heard them clunking from his squeezed fingers. "I am going to drive everywhere on this damn field until I run over your hard body. And after that I am going to hop out and flip tumble your really little head here and there til your brains won't work no more. And afterward, I am going to spit on you 'til I don't have no more spit to spit."
Ann knew how intoxicated he was. He had methods for sounding with every level of vodka he figured out how to suck into his framework. This was the way he sounded just before going out. He giggled to himself a low sort of throaty pompous sound. "Ha. I just got the opportunity to get to my auto." He was at that point inclining too far forward, yet he faltered when he moved his right foot. He grabbed a wad of mud that served to keep the foot dragging. He lost parity, got his left hand down to pad his fall, and after that put his temple directly into his auto entryway. "Man. This is not my night."
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