Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

an Asian massage parlor while
Smokey believed they were en-route to a secretive, non-licensed bar that moved
locations every month to avoid paying taxes.
    The speculation ended abruptly when the limo stopped in
front of The Study, an ordinary college bar frequented by DePaul co-eds.
Left-Nut was underwhelmed. “Oh come on, we’re gonna be ten years older than
everyone here.” His white hair didn’t help with the college girls, and his lack
of common decency was an even bigger turnoff.
    “Tough shit,” Blake said. “We leave in two hours for the
last stop so get after it.”
    The Study resembled a library, complete with book-lined
shelves, card catalogues and naughty librarians serving drinks and spankings.
It was jam packed with hipsters but Cliff had already arranged for tables in
the VIP section.
    Charlie glanced at the books by their table and noticed
everything from War and Peace to You Might be a Redneck . However,
it was a pink hardback titled The Fine Art of Giving Blowjobs that stood
out from the rest. He flipped it open to the front. “What do you know? Gay Mike
checked this out twice.”
    “You guys really need to stop busting my balls,” Mike said
defensively.
    “See, he can’t stop talking about male genitalia,” Jim said.
“It’s like he’s cock-crazy.”
    A large-busted server in a sexy faux-geek outfit approached and
momentarily put an end to the bash-fest. “I’m Lola and I’ll be your librarian
tonight. For specials we have eight dollar pitchers of Pale Horse, twelve
dollar fishbowl kamikazes and half off wings.” She adjusted her glasses and
tapped a notebook with impeccably manicured nails. “You boys look like you’re
gonna be fun tonight,” she added while batting long lashes.
    Charlie looked away and scanned the bar. He was buzzing hard
and wanted to talk to real women for once, women that didn’t make their living
by fleecing gullible morons.
    “Oh I’m fun. You’ll see when you get off work,” the gullible
moron named Vidu said with an off-putting stare.
    “You’re bad. I might have
to discipline you,” Lola said while twirling a ruler and wondering why Vidu was
soaking wet and had a large handprint on his face.
    Of course, Vidu would later claim she wanted to, “Tie him up
and fuck his balls out,” whatever that meant.
    Oblivious to the girl’s charms and massive rack, Big Rob
focused on other priorities. “Cheap wings sound good,” he said and licked his
chops.
    Jim looked at his bulky friend with annoyance. “Why do you
care if they’re half off? Your broke-ass ran out of money an hour ago.” Rob
flashed the same jovial smile he always did and Jim caved as he always did. “I
guess I’ll take twenty—” Big Rob cleared his throat loudly in protest, and Jim
sighed. “Make that fifty mild wings and a pitcher of Pale Horse.” Rob nodded
his approval.
    Smokey’s phone boomed the theme song to the show Cops. “I bet Trent’s calling about the hookers, I mean strippers, for tonight.”
    “You guys really are bad,” the waitress said and laughed
nervously. Smokey rose from his seat with a flushed face and took the call
outside while everyone finished ordering.
    Charlie noticed plenty of women nearby but it didn’t matter
much. He had gone from being a young stud to a middle-aged loser quite some
time ago, and his confidence was beyond shot.
    A lanky, red-haired friend of Blake’s named Bruce slammed a
stack of National Geographic s down on the table. “Next game is called
Jungle Titties. Last person to find a pair buys a round of shots.”
    Charlie spotted a cover featuring Masai lion hunters and
knew it was money in the bank. “I’m in,” he said and tossed his useless credit
card into the hat. Sure enough, he found some nude villagers in under a minute.
    Cliff had less luck. “This game’s fucking dumb,” he said
after losing handily.
    “Pony up, and make it whiskey,” Blake said.
    Cliff soon returned with a clinking tray of shots. However,
some