[ WP ] In the aftermath of a bet to see who can achieve blackout drunk first . You wake up face down with your friends holding a scythe and covered in bottles , also not to mention that Death is at the door demanding his scythe and his keys back .

I held my head in my hand as I slowly shrugged off the raging hang over, I pulled myself up, grasping my bed. The other unfortunate bastards had collapsed, Dave was literally covered in single malt bruichladdich whisky which I may have had a hand in. 
 
 There was a loud knock at the door, and it took me a second to realise that this was, in fact, not my house. It did n't look quite right. 
 
 HELLO? OPEN UP. 
 
 I staggered over to the door, looking through the peep hole... is that what it's called? or is it just a spy hole? Or... `` Is it called a peer hole or a spy hole? This hole in the door thing?'' I mused aloud. 
 
 IT DOES N'T MATTER. GIVE ME BACK MY THINGS. 
 
 `` Woah woah woah pal, I dinnea give tae shits about who the fuck you think you are, ai n't nobody asking me to do things this early in the morning. And just who the fuck are you anyway, tall dark and hooded?'' 
 
 HENDRY. OPEN THE DOOR. 
 
 `` That ai n't an answer pal!'' I growled, although that might have been because my throat was burning. He slammed a fist wrapped in cloth into the eye hole, causing me to fall to my feet. `` Watch the fucking door!'' 
 
 OPEN UP. 
 
 `` Fine you bastard, except I do n't have the keys, and do n't know where they are.'' The figure hummed. 
 
 UNDER THE FLOWER POT BY YOUR FEET. 
 
 I lifted the pot I had n't noticed before. There was a small key, with a tiny skull at the base, I put it into the lock, but before I could even make contact, the door slid open. The figure behind it had a skull for a face and bones for fingers. 
 
 `` I must be really, really hungover.'' 
 
 HAS ANYBODY EVERY TOLD YOU THAT YOU LOOK LIKE GEORGE MICHEAL? 
 
 `` Fuck you, take your damm keys and riddle me this, how did I even get here?'' I sighed, gently pacing back to where Dave was stinking out, and gently prodding him with his foot but he was out cold. 
 
 WELL, YOU ALL GOT REALLY DRUNK. AND YOU SORT OF, DIED. OBVIOUSLY YOU'RE ALLOWED TO CHALLENGE ME TO A GAME FOR YOUR SOUL. WE STARTED TO PLAY CHESS, BUT SOMEHOW YOU MANAGED TO BEAT ME. SO THEN WE PLAYED ANOTHER GAME, YOUR SOUL IN EXCHANGE FOR MY SCYTHE AND KEY. 
 
 `` Another game of chess?'' I cringed, chess was a bitch of a game to play. So much memorisation. 
 
 WORSE. MARIO PARTY. 
 
 `` I have never felt so sorry for anything in my whole life.'' I bowed deeply for the figure. Mario Party ended friendship, I should n't have done that to Death. 
 
 
 YES, YOU'RE GOING STRAIGHT TO HELL IN LATER LIFE. CAN I GET MY SHIT BACK NOW? I'M LATE FOR FINISHING OFF SOME OLD MEMBER OF THE LABOUR PARTY. 
 
 `` Fine, here.'' I passed him the key, then carefully extracting the scythe from the drunk, swung it directly at Death. It split his skull and he collapsed to the ground with a thud. I had freed the world of death with a raging hangover created by an overindulgence of fucking fantastic whisky. 
 
 `` To quote Arnold Judas Rimmer, only the good die young.'' 

