"What the hell are you doing?" Scaramouche gawks at you as you gulped down your glass of wine; it was midnight, and you both were slightly tipsy while celebrating your college gradation by loosening up with some wine. "You're gonna black out, you lightweight."

Though, while your friend complains, he couldn't stop a laugh from escaping him, sipping from his own wine.

“You're a mess." he says, "At least college is over— now we have even more debt, and we're still bitchless.”