(no subject)

What do you do when your b- the guy you l- the guy you're fucking your friend and you get into a fight? You get yourself good and fucking trashed. It's a long held tradition, and Ennis don't see no reason to change it now. That would be going against the natural fucking order of things, wouldn't it? So shit if Ennis don't just get himself a few bottles of whiskey and slowly - or not so slowly - and surely works his way through them. He almost made it all the way through, too, but that sixth time he got up to piss he couldn't stand too good and figured he ought to go back to the room before he passed out in the middle of the fucking bar. Room. Room bed. Bed soft room soft room good.

There's some loud cursing as Ennis fiddles with the lock, and a few bangs on the door before he manages to swing it open, a loud crash as it hits the wall on the other side, and another loud crash as Ennis trips over something - possibly the floor - and goes sprawling onto his knees. That ain't so bad, though, because that way he can move around without falling. The room's dark, and he can't find his own nose in this fucking place and if he could only find the bed, all would be well with the world.