This Business of Revenge.

We got to the bathrooms and immediately leaned against the cool tiled walls, bloody hell it was hot in there.

“How many drinks to get him completely trashed?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

Elise thought for a second. “He’s had about five by now, I’d say another three. Another five and he’ll pass out.”

I smiled at that last sentence. Perfect.

“Thank you Elise.” I beamed; enthusiasm clear in my voice.

“Quite alright, as long as it helps you get your job done. Anyway, have fun. I’m home bound.”

I nodded. We’d both agreed it would be easier to pull this off without her present.

“G’night.” She said as she walked out of the tiled bathrooms and to the left, I turned to the right.

-

“Halo!” Damien cried as I reached the table.

“D!” I returned his drunken affection.

“Hey, D. I’ve got an idea.” I slurred into his ear.

“And what is that Angel?” As he spoke the last word I cringed inwardly, I loathed people calling me Angel; but I shook it off.

“Why don’t you and Cam have a drinking contest?” I smiled a smile that belonged to a blond on a hair commercial.

“First to drink ten glasses wins!” I declared. By this time my idea had caught the attention of the other man around the table. Four in total.

“Okay.” Damien nodded in excitement. Apparently he would do anything to impress a girl dressed as I was.

“Alright!” Two of the other men crowed in agreement and excitement. Cam said not a word as he slipped off the chair and passed out on the floor.

Three in total.

-

“Scull, scull, scull, scull!” I cheered along with half of the bar as Damien and the two others downed countless glasses brimming with beer.

Damien was on his fourth, and counting.

Come on Damien, come on, just a few more til you hit the floor.

One of the other men, Tom, slammed his fourth glass down on the bar with a thick thud and his head soon followed with another dull thud.

Only Damien and Chris were left now, and Damien was getting cocky, I could see it in his eyes.

Chris downed a sixth.

Damien followed with a seventh.

C’mon boys, only a matter of minutes now.

Thud.

The crowd cheered as Chris hit the deck.

Suddenly a wave of alarm hit me; what if he doesn’t pass out?

Well of course I did have a plan for that, but that was a plan that had the possibility to go horribly wrong - which is why I was hoping he would pass out.

That plan was simple enough in theory: Get Damien drunk, drive him home, tease him a little until he falls asleep and wait for him to wake up with nothing on but socks and me lying next to him.

But I knew that that could go wrong, I didn’t know what he was like drunk, he could get violent and I really didn’t want to deal with that. It was honestly a lot easier if he was unconscious.

Oh god I hope this plan works!

I gasped as with incredible luck as soon as I thought those words; Damien slumped forward, hitting his head on the bar, in complete unconsciousness.

I ticked another little box in my head as I dragged the great oaf outside and into a waiting taxi.