You, Jim, and Andy were working late, so Andy had the brilliant idea to do shots. While Jim and Andy drank and drank, you poured it out every time.

When you were finally able to go home, Andy curled up on the floor. “I’m not driving like this. I bring an inflatable bed to work for times like these,” he explained. You shook your head. “Jim?”

Jim looked at you blearily. “I’m comin’,” he slurred, grabbing his bike. You and him walked out the building, and he got on the bike. He made it about two feet before falling over into the bushes.

You sigh. “C’mon.” You gesture to your car. Jim climbs inside gratefully. “Y’know, you can handle your liquor really well,” he marveled.