A half hour after the tray of drinks had been consumed, Alonzo felt incredibly dizzy. His eyes betrayed him. They wouldn’t stay open and when they were, his vision was blurred. His legs felt like jello. He succumbed and collapsed on the spot.
He woke up in a hospital. A nurse came in to check on him and he asked her where he was and what time it was.
“9:00 am, in Mercy Hospital” she said, not even taking her eyes off of her clipboard.
“9:00 in the morning?? I slept through the whole night?” he said. He was extremely saddened to find out he had lost yet another night. He rationed, at least he had one more.
“No hun, you lost two nights. It’s Monday morning!” she said, finally looking up at him, “You had an ungodly amount of homemade barbiturates in your blood. You slept like Cinderella. Doc almost called for a prince to come kiss you awake” she scoffed.
“Oh no! My flight is in two hours. I gotta go!” he said in a panic.
“Hun, you’ll only get released in two hours. You better hold your horses”
When he was finally released, he realized his cash was gone. Credit card, too. He went to the hotel. His bag was confiscated by police when housekeeping found what they thought was cocaine.
“It wasn’t even real” he screamed.
The manager felt so bad for Alonzo he offered the $120 needed to catch a bus to go back home, from his own pocket. Alonzo dejectedly accepted.
The manager left him with one last pearl of wisdom, “Miami ain’t for amateurs, son.”
On the bus back home, Alonzo was sat next to a beautiful woman. She was warm and willing to talk to Alonzo. “How can this go wrong?” he lamented to himself.
Their conversation went great. They seemed to hit it off well. Alonzo glorified his adventure, softening or completely leaving out the most embarrassing parts and playing fast and loose with the truth. They even made plans to go out the next weekend together, back in their home city.
Both decided to get some sleep. They said their last goodbye; to anybody this side of existence. At 3:00am a truck driver, high on methamphetamine swerved into the lane they were traveling on. Not a single person on the bus survived. Because Alonzo had no I.D. and the scale of destruction of the remains of the passengers was so great that identification was impossible, what was scraped up of Alonzo was sent back to Miami to be buried.
The End.
By Ryan 