Little thingy I dunno. With Shane cause he’s bbg
Shane felt like death. Literally, he was at his wits end today. After a long gruelling day at Joja mart dealing with Morris’ yelling demands and rude customers he was exhausted. Than gus’ closed the saloon because he’s added some new varnish and it needs to dry? Really?! He can’t believe it. Pierre’s is closed, the next closest shop is in zuzu city and as if he’s gonna drive all that damn way to get drunk. The carsickness wasn’t worth it. Getting home and going to grab some cold pizza from the fridge he found himself rather lucky with a few old cans of cheap crappy beer stashed away and pumkin ale from last autumn. His mood brightened and he grabbed both the pizza and the drinks. His day was turning around.
At least it was. It was 1 am. Dark and summer rain beat down outside but it was nothing over the noise of his belly. Turned out old beer and ale with day old pizza was NOT a good combo. It had tasted so good going down. The cold cheese and sauce washing away bitter tangs of beer and the slight spice of pumpkin from his mouth. His drunken Brain just scarfing the slices down without a care in the world. He’d needed this all damned day he wasn’t gonna go halves on it. But laying there now, stomach painful and bloated, cramping and loudly churning with nausea, ever gurgle every rumble squeezing tightly and he couldn’t help but let out a few wet burps able to taste his mistakes. He could only whine and wriggle on his bed, moving to much made his nausea worsen ten fold and each burp felt risky. Stomach sloshing with every movement and rumbling like deep thunder. In his drunken haze he pulled his shirt up lazily over the swell of his gut placing his hands against the warm soft flesh his fingertips felt a bit cold which made him shiver. Lazily and with no coordination he rubbed at his belly trying to get it to settle. He was tired but like hell he could sleep like this. Every passing second felt worse and worse and he could feel the nausea creeping up his throat but damn it his belly hurt to much to move. So he laid there, fighting it down as the night drew on until finally, from sheer exhaustion and the warmth of alcohol coursing through his blood he dozed off. Snoring and drooling his hands still atop his belly as it continued to complain fiercely. He’d definitely feel that in the morning.
