sometimes, after a supreme effort in your cups, you end up with a shocker. A hangover so vile death seems preferable. Where one dare not cough for fear losing control of one or more bodily functions. A place so terrible bacon, paracetomol and Gatorade cannot rescue you. Where the light hurts your eyes and water tastes thick and greasy. Your bones ache and your fingers shake.
I'm going back to bed.