>> |
!ikOpDWm3h. 01/12/12(Thu)02:44 No.33176830>>33176550 >Just a simple beer run, that is what your buddies said. >Just go to this corner shop, get some brews and we can get this party running again, they say as someone shoves a napkin in your hand and you are pushed out the door. >The cops are starting to show up around you apartment, the guests are starting to mill out, but fuck it, you guess, they are paying for the beer. >You look at the directions, your beer goggles are fucking with you a little as you decipher the directions but you manage. Needless to say, you have never noticed this little corner mart before. >Inside you notice above all else, a sense that you are being watched, although the establishment lacks any of the obvious cameras, you write it off as tipsy paranoia. >You head to the fridge wall a simple goal in hand, beer, payment, party savior. >You open the frosted door in the nearest cooler and have to take a few startled steps back when the contents seem to fall out towards you, thankfully you catch the projectile in your arms and not your face. But you were not ready for the contents of your catch. >Looking up at you is a good half dozen metallic, frosty cold dog shaped cans of questionable beer. >They mill around in your arms, causing you to notice that they are damn near freezing. >You cuddle them near you as you go to the register, the cashier looks at your catch and chuckles. You cannot understand a word he says, but he accepts the $20 you give him, he gives you a insulated bag that seems impossibly heavy. >Needless to say you make it back to your apartment, your friends and guests are gone. >You open the bag you broke your back getting in, and you spent the rest of the morning herding can dogs. |