The Haze was lying in the middle of the floor in the hallway by the front door. He had attempted to get himself to the bathroom, but the tequila did not let him. He had collapsed right here, rather incoherent. He heard shouting outside, and someone running up the stairs. Then, thunck, the door was forced open by someone and into Haze’s head.
“Dude, man. That fuckin’ hurt.” Haze said as he brought his hand up to the large, throbbing bump on the back of his head. It felt warm and moist. He brought his hand back to his eyes, and saw that it was full of blood.
“Nobody open this door!” Brian said as he walked into the living room. It was all Haze heard before he blacked out.
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