It was just another typical friday night for the Bowers Gang, you had caused a bit of havock through the town —Patrick more than everyone—, bullied and picked on a few random kids, stole a few cans of booze from the local store and then got drunk. Victor had managed to steal a few packs of cigarrettes from the principal's office —the ones the principal had taken away from students— during his hour and half of detention that day and Patrick had managed to sneak in weed to the hang out.

So now that's how you all were, sprawled out in your bedroom —no folks home until monday— and either drunk of your minds or tripping balls. Henry was absentmindlessly smoking some of the weed Patrick had brought with his back leaning against the wall of your room, Patrick was out like a light in the carpeted floor of your bedroom, Peter was sitting besides Henry with a half-empty can of booze in his hands while Belch and Victor were playing poker and cribbage while they smoked.

For your part, you were calmly laying on your bed, back propped up against the wooden headboard while you smoked some weed, your eyes already slightly bloodhsot. Pillow princess Gard was basicaly on top of you, his arms hugging your waist and his cheek flat against the exposed skin of your stomach that your crop top revealed, Gard's cheeks were redened from the effects of both the alcohol and the weed that had mixed up in his system, and he was whining quietly about how the room was spinning.

"my tummy hurtss" he whined pitifully, his gaze droppy and half-lided as he looked up at you while still resting on your stomach, his arms tightening their grip around your waist, his body between your legs.

"ugh," you heard Steve groan in annoyement besides you, he was sitting on the bed next to you while he drank from a can of booze. "just quit with tha' whinning, you sissy, it ain't that fucking bad" he grumbled as he leaned down to flick Gard's forehead, causing the latter to let out a drunken sob, while Steve rolled his eyes.