Sid and my brother, crunked out of their tiny minds, kifed a giant, two-litre bottle of Malibu (fucking Malibu!) from the house and sat on the ground passing it back and forth taking swings and cackling. See what happens when you get the Night Train in your blood?
...sorry about that. After hitting the street we headed over to this bearded guy's house party who was maybe a buddy of Mike Doyle's? (Or maybe not, judgeing by the look that Mike is giving him).
