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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Seven friends sitting around playing a drinking game...

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Submitted: December 26, 2009

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Submitted: December 26, 2009



“You guys are fucked,” Pat said with a devious smirk. “I kick ass at this game.”
All his friends groaned in frustration as they slowly began gathering around the small wooden desk. Each person lingered back away from the table, not in the mood to be compelled to consume excessive amounts of alcohol because of Pat’s great skill in every drinking game.
“Who wants to be on my left?”
His friends immediately began rushing and scrambling to all the open seats towards Pat’s right, each wrestling, pulling, pushing and struggling to not be condemned to sit on his left and be damned to drink meniscuses all night.
The struggling soon stopped when Jason noticed nobody was going to stop fighting for a ‘safe’ seat, and he yelled out,
“Nose goes!”
Jason, Max, Johnny Trouble, and Josh all quickly put their index finger to their nose, eyes darting around the room nervously, studying each person’s face to see who would lose.
All four boys relaxed when they saw the fifth friend taking a sip of his beer nonchalantly, oblivious to their game.
Tommy eventually felt five pairs of eyes burning into him, and he looked up to see four friends with their fingers on their noses, and Pat looking at him with a devilish smirk.
“Ah, shit,” Tommy said defeated as Pat patted the seat to his left. “I never fucking win at that game,” He complained, slowly making his way to his designated seat, feet dragging the whole way.
The other five laughed at their friend as he sat down with a pout.
Before the game began, each person took a few practice shots at the small glass of beer. Tommy clenched his jaw and watched with a blank stare as Pat made quarter after quarter into the glass, stopping only when he had run out of the twenty-five cent pieces.
Jason, Johnny T, Josh, and Max’s laughter got hysterical when they saw how good Pat was at the game, and how fucked Tommy was going to be by the end of the night.
“Who wants to go first?” Pat asked the group, and Jason raised his hand and shot the quarter for the glass, nicking the rim.
“Fuck!” He yelled with a smile. “I was so close,” He pointed a threatening finger at Max who was on his left and the next one to go. “You better watch your ass, man. I’m gonna’ getcha!”
Max laughed and shot his quarter, also missing. Johnny Trouble was next, and he actually made his, and this put the pressure on Josh.
“You suck, you suck, you suck!” John yelled at Josh, attempting to distract him and cause him to miss. Josh smirked and shot his quarter, just missing the opening of the glass.
“You wanna’ go half-way?” Pat asked his friend, the pitcher of beer already in his hand. Josh nodded and smiled as Pat filled the glass up to the half-way mark, determined to make his shot.
“Come on Joshy!” Jason yelled in encouragement. “If you make this shot, Pat will have to make it, or else he gets fucked!” The other friends began to cheer him on, all wanting Pat to actually be forced to drink in this game.
Josh took his time and made sure to grasp the quarter firmly in his hand. He made sure to put the correct amount of tilt to the coin, and line up his shot so it would hit the exact spot on the table. He flicked the quarter, and it was a perfect shot.
The five friends yelled in bliss and triumph as now Pat would have to make his shot, or he would have to face the meniscus. Pat chuckled at his friends’ cheers and high fives and flicked the quarter on the table confidently and lazily. The quarter headed right towards the opening, but slightly nicked the rim of the glass and shot away from the top.
The five then became ecstatic at Pat’s miss, and they began taunting Pat as Josh filled the glass up to the meniscus.
The friends all laid their heads onto the desk, looking at the glass up close as it was filled to the top. They looked for the bubble of booze that formed on the brim of the glass, and told Josh how much more to add for the perfect meniscus.
Pat’s smile never faltered as he friends began throwing teases and taunts at him to miss his shot. He now took more time on his next shot then he did the one previous, and actually looked to make sure the quarter was lined up correctly. When he believed that it was, he nodded to himself in agreement, averted his gaze so it was locked on Tommy’s, and flicked the quarter onto the desk blindly, smiling as he heard the splash of beer, and the ‘clink’ as it sunk to the bottom.
Everyone around the table shouted curse words, and slammed their fists in frustration. Pat –who’s gaze was still locked with Tommy’s –smiled and laughed at his friends’ distress.
“I fucking hate you Pat,” Tommy mumbled, staring at the almost overflowing glass of beer. This was it: he either made it and fucked Jason over, or missed it and fucked himself over.
Pat laughed and urged his friend to give it his best shot. Tommy took the quarter between his index finger and thumb, tilting it at the correct angle and beginning to line up his shot. His tongue poked out in concentration, and he focused his line of sight on the perfect spot on the desk. He eventually was ready to flick his quarter on the desk, and took a deep breath before doing so.
Tommy roughly flicked the quarter on the desk, determined to show Pat up. The quarter sailed quickly through the air, completely missing the top of the glass and flying over the opening and landing on the other side of the desk.
Dammit!” Tommy cursed loudly, slamming his fists on the desk, causing the glass to tremble. The five boys laughed and began taunting Tommy to hurry up and finish his beer.
Tommy leaned over the desk and sipped up the top layer of booze, insuring none would spill. He then grasped the glass firmly in his hand, and slowly began drinking the liquid, cringing at the metallic bite there was to it.
Pat laughed at Tommy’s expression and complained about being thirsty. Tommy only flicked his friend off and continued chugging the beer.
Pat sat back in his seat, arms folded and a content smile on his lips. He glanced to his left quickly to make sure Tommy hadn’t stopped chugging, then averted his gaze away. This was his plan all along.
His friends had gotten so excited and created such an uproar when he had missed his first shot. If they had known any better, they would have realized that a sober Pat with a perfect opportunity to fuck over an already drunk friend would have never missed his shot on purpose.
Pat turned his face away from the table and bit his bottom lip to hold back a smile. His friends would never know. He looked back at the scene in front of him, seeing that Tommy was just about to finish his beer.
“Who wants to be on my left?”
“Nose goes!”
They would catch on eventually.

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