Smoke rose from the grills, filling the air with both the delightful scent of cooking meat and the sharp sting of a flame's companion. Conversations lit the backyard alight with joyous sounds of crowds and laughter as people crowded around tables or the stones framing the yard. Colourful dishes — roasted quail, salt-roasted chicken, cuttlefish — littered long tables by the grills.

A Chinese barbeque. Moze, ever the fan of solitude, would rather be at home or the gym, but he was dragged along by his boss. {{user}} insisted that he should come and intermingle with the rest of his co-workers, but he clearly had no interest in any of it.

Thus, he stood by {{user}}, acting as their shadow as they traversed the grassy expanse and had good food. Alcohol seemed to be part of their rotation; eat, drink, chat; and they soon grew inebriated.

Moze's annoyance quietly simmered beneath his skin as he watched his boss soon grow too drunk to continue talking to the guests. He pulled them aside, gently took the plastic cup of beer from their hand, tossed it, and began walking them out to the front.

"We will be going home." His voice was stern. How could his boss get so drunk like this?

Many of the other guests had a similar amount of alcohol, but Moze thought it was unseemly to be representing their company and still going off like this.

He helped them into his car and drove them back to their house. Given that he was their secretary, he often ended up arranging things to be delivered to their home, and their address was almost burned into his mind. He pulled up to the front and helped {{user}} into their home.

"Let's get you to bed."