The man slapped thirty-two dollars and twenty-seven cents onto the counter, and looked at the bartender with the blue eyes of a Saint-- or atleast the blue eyes of a Saint who was about to get very, very drunk. "Bartender," The man said to the bartender he was addressing. "I have thirty-somethin' dollars, and I want you to get me as drunk as possible." The man behind the desk looked at the wrinkled tender and took it from the man's grubby red hands, eyeing it and placing it flat onto the table. He ran a marker over it, and looked back at the man, absolutely denying that this man was anything Holy. Once the barman made sure that the bills were infact legal, he served the man and got him as he wished. He didn't give him any sort of drink, sure, he just got him as drunk as possible. That didn't take long, seeing as the man really did get drunk as soon as he pressed his maw against any of the shot glasses. The bartender watched in amazement as he handled his liquor, aswell as his beer. And to the bartender's amazement, he wasn't even the least-bit sick! The only thing that concerned the stranger was that it was only ten in the morning the day after New Years Eve. If anyone should be getting drunk, it should have been the night before! But here before him was the very man. The bartender stopped feeding the man's developing alcoholism when he reached seventeen dollars and sixty-two cents. He took that much out of the register, and handed it to the man who was now trying his damnedest to slide the shot across the table without it falling over. "Sir," The stranger called to the drunkard. "I don't think you should be drinking this much. I'm no expert on, uh, addictions, but I am an expert at reading, and the clock does read ten o-clock in the morning. Don't you have... family to be with? It is the New Year." The drunk man raised his pissed gaze off to the man who was providing his giggle-water. He pushed him head off of the table, and lifted his neck into the air. While this was an achievement for himself, he was still slouching like a child in a school chair. He lifted up one of his sleeves, and looked at the time on his wrist. It took him a while to get his eyes to focus on one arm on the clock, but when he did, he cracked a smile and looked to the stranger serving him. "Issa... Issa issa ten!-Ooohh-Twelllve." The man burbled. "Annnaa' Iiiia wont' admit defeeeat to a... a... a a gloorified coffee machine!!!" And that was the truth. The glorified coffee machine rolled his eyes, and left his station to lead the poor drunk man outside. The bartender leaned in while he lifted him off of the chair, and pulled back. Good lord, he stank like beer up to high heaven. "Sir-- hey, what's your name?" The barkeep asked. "Isssa-isssa-isssa...." The stranger started, his knees wobbling as he was grabbed from the chair. "Joe....Oe...Yo." "J-Joe? Joe what?" The man pushed the door open with his hip, and soon the man fell into the other's arms, and now the bartender was basically dragging him out by his arms. Joe's legs dragged behind him as the nice young man pulled him out into the cold morning air. He didn't answer his question... Infact, he didn't remember what he did say to him. He didn't remember what the nice man said to him in return. He didn't catch his name, or his number, or the name of the bar. He didn't remember when he put his seventeen dollars, and he didn't remember what he did spend it on, if he did spend it at all. He didn't remember if he slipped and fell on his ass as he crossed an ice-patch, or if he trudged in knee-high snow all morning. He just remembered that it was really hard to walk, and a nice lady in a clean coat showed him the way to the stairs. Where did the stairs come from? Joe didn't know what the stairs were leading to or who the name of the nice women was, or what building he was in, but he climbed those stairs for a while. He only stopped to keep himself from vomiting, and eventually stopped to vomit. He didn't know how many levels there were, but he did remember that there was something he was going to do once he got to the top of the building. Joe rubbed his eyes after throwing up a good portion of a Carl's Junior Thick Burger and all of the alcohol that had managed to get him drunk, and then some. He faintly wondered how he got a Carl's Junior Thick Burger, but he wasn't even sure if it was anything like a Thick Burger anymore. He'd kill for one, though. As he thought, he managed to huck the rest of the chunks, wipe his mouth with the sleeves of his jacket, and stumble-fucked himself up the rest of the stairs. The effort proved a challenge, only because there was one obstacle in his stairway to heaven: It was a construction zone. There was a bucket inbetween a door and it's frame, propping it open and leading into a construction field attached to the side of the building-- what building was this, again? The wind spat now into the building, and the air felt as it had before. Joe pushed the bucket out of the way, and walked into the catwalk that was the zone. He felt the breeze nearly freeze the tip of his nose off. There was a sign that said 'OFF LIMITS', and Joe wasn't quite sure if they were talking about him specifically being off limits, or if something else wasn't limited, but he didn't mind it after a while. He only did mind it when he saw that it was attached to one of the Window-Washer Utility Carts. Joe meandered through the safari that was the construction zone, passing through working bodies that did smell vaguely of Rum. He slithered past the ice and slipped on a few patches, cold snow crunching under his feet. He pushed the sign out to the side with his foot, and watched it fall to the ground with a small crack. Joe did the smartest thing he could have at that moment, and took a good look at the equipment covered in a thin layer of snow and ice. He atleast planted the cold helmet onto his drunken head, and wore loosely the yellow safety jacket. As he swayed in the Utility cart, he looked at a small panel of buttons and pressed a convenient one that had an arrow pointing upwards to the sky. He pressed that, and soon became one with the arrow.