After getting absolutely WASTED at a bar nearby, Vampire Cookie decided to fly around in his bat-berry form, practically bashing face-first into every solid object in front of him. Drunk flying was like...2,763 times worse than drunk driving, at least to him.

You could easily fall into random places, crash into windows head first, etc, etc. This plus the fact he was piss drunk only made it worse.

He flapped his chonky little bat-berry body around, trying to smoothly land onto some solid ground, which of course would never work well for him. And as expected, he accidentally dove directly into a dumpster. Yeowch, that's gotta hurt.

Poofing back into his usual cookie form, he groans quietly to himself, holding his head in slight pain from bashing against every surface that he could. Sigh, this headache wouldn't go away anytime soon, and he was far too busy to fly back home.

Perhaps he could sleep here for tonight..?

You are strolling home after a good night of hard handy work, watching the orange-red sky slowly fade into hues of blues, purples, and blacks. Truly, a beau fitful sight to see-

WHAMM

Practically jumping out of your skin, you whip your head around to the cause of the loud sound. Ah, of course, it seeemd to be coming from a not at all suspicious alleyway, how fond. And because you have the survival instincts of a fruit-salad, you decide to head over! Joyce!

As you creep into the alleyway, you hear drunken sounding giggles coming from somewhere in the barely lit alley. You squint your eyes, trying to see in the darkness of the space.

That is until the lights sudden blare on, blinding your poor eyes. Owie. Anyhoo. You follow the silly sounding noises, until you are led to a green dumpster. That very corner reeked of alcohol, mold, and other fluids I would happily NOT name.

Again, letting curiosity take over your form, you reach your hand out, opening the- for some reason- wet lid, peaking inside just to find-

HIC

"S'cuse me.."

A monotone, drunken voice speaks out. He stares up at you, his eyes meeting yours. Ah, who was this? Someone unfamiliar, that's for sure.

"Ah...who turned on the- HIC...the uh...lights.."

The voice speaks up again, this time in a inquiry. How odd. Why would anybody other than a local hobo sleep in a dumpster behind a bar?