The Danger's of Drinking Too Much

Hey, look at that, a caption!

Now, I know this is a bit rough, but I did say I would try to do at least some new work while on my laptop.  This one has been kicking around in my head for a while, and I finally managed to find that last elusive piece I needed to make it work.

Some of you may have noticed that there is a read more link below the caption.  That's because I don't want to spoil the story on this one, but after you read it you may be interested in learning the "history" of this caption.  There is a bit of a story behind this one.  So if you liked it and want to know more, click the link.

Also, it's the return of my (in)famous Witch Doctor!

As I said, this caption has a history to it.  It was inspired by an actual incident.  It was at a party.  My friends and I were hanging out, playing games.  It was one of our more low key parties, but still one of the guys, we shall call him S, decided to start drinking and brought out a bottle of Jack Daniels.  He ended up going through 2/3rds of the bottle by himself (and the only reason he didn't make it 3/3rds was because I drank the other third to stop him from getting it).  During which we continued playing games, and had to repeat the rules to him every turn.  He then proceeded to get sick, pretty much ruining the only bathroom in the place.  At which point he was sent outside, in case he gets sick again.  We would check on him every fifteen minutes or so, each time bringing him water to drink.  Now, this was during a very hot summer day, and the night was no cooler.  So, apparently, he decided he was too hot, because one of the times we went to check on him we found him in nothing but his boxer shorts, laying on the concrete deck.  And he refused to move or come inside.  Not wanting to risk him getting sick again inside, we let him be and eventually we all went to bed.

The next morning, I and one other person are awake.  The other person, W, was in a different room when S, who just woke up outside in his underwear, walks in.  He comes over to me and asks me what happened.  It's clear that he doesn't remember a thing.  So I start by telling him about how he drank too much, and made a mess in the bathroom.  Now, I have an excellent poker face, and I am told that I have a great deadpan voice.  So, completely seriously, I tell him that afterwards he stripped off his clothes and tried to go running through the neighborhood, and that we all had to stop him, but not before he was able to get down to his boxers.

He buys it, hook line and sinker.

Then, a short while later, W walks in to the room and sees us.  S proceeds to ask, "Did I really try to take my clothes off and go streaking?"

Even though W couldn't have heard us talking about it, without missing a beat he goes, "Yep."  Then proceeds to add some more details to the story.  All straight faced.

As everyone else woke up, without a word being spoken we all told started telling him the same thing.

This was actually several years ago.  To this day, he still doesn't know what really happened.  We even still make jokes about how he's not allowed outside when he's been drinking, in case he decides to go streaking. In between then and now, he met a girl and is now engaged.  We've all agreed that when he gets married we will tell him the truth as a wedding present.

But till then, he still believes every word we say...