Rarely did Missy go overboard… Like actually overboard.  Though she got shit-faced often, she had a pretty good grasp on her limits and paced herself before she got too sloppy.  But tonight…  It had been quite a night, to put it lightly.  Everything was a fucking blur.  It started with a shot or two before the show.  Then a few more shots after her set.  A few beers after Dethklok got off stage and a bunch of other booze along the way leading up to the bottle of vodka she’d nursed in the hotel room.  She didn’t know where that went.

Now, she was in the floor of the bathroom, hugging the base of the porcelain.  Anything that had been in her stomach had been emptied in the bowl already, but she couldn’t find it in her to get up and rejoin the party.  Her head throbbed and her stomach churned.  She really fucking overdid it.  Sleeping it off right there was beginning to feel like the best idea in the world.  She shut her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool tile against her burning face.

The sound of the doorknob twisting had her lifting her head.  Fuck…  She forgot to lock it.  The door flung open, and she was relieved to see that it was only Pickles.  One hand reached out to grab the vanity to brace himself, the other clung to the remainder of Missy’s bottle of vodka.  He took a huge swig as he swayed in the doorway before stumbling in.

Missy made no attempt to get out of his way.  If he noticed her on the ground, he didn’t register it.  He managed to step over her legs as he walked to the toilet.  A goofy grin crossed her face as she watched him fumble with the fly of his pants.  After a bit of a struggle trying to do it with one hand, he sat the bottle down on the back of the toilet and tried again.

She watched quietly as he finally unfastened his pants and promptly whipped his dick out.  He stood there for a moment, just holding it before anything happened.  Missy found herself a little fascinated with the angle and didn’t bother looking away as he began to drain his bladder.  A sigh of relief escaped him, and he shut his eyes to let it all out.

Consider that he had drank at least as much, if not more, than Missy, he couldn’t stand steady.  Because of this, his aim was off.  The stream hit the seat, half of it splashing into the bowl, and the other half splashing onto Missy’s face that was still resting on the floor beside the toilet.  One hand weakly came up to block it from hitting her eyes.

“Watch it down here, douchebag,” she said, trying to get his attention.

The sudden sound of her voice startled Pickles.  He jumped, which caused a slight jolt that redirected the stream right onto her chest as he tried to process what he heard.  The sudden warmth was a contrast to the cold floor, and in spite of how disgusting this was, it kind of felt pleasant.

“Missy!”

He quickly directed it back towards the toilet, spraying her again in the face in the process.  Her hands came up to cover her face again.  Good lord, this guy pissed like a racehorse.

“‘M sorry!  Oh, God.  ‘M so damn sorry!  Didn’t see ya down there!”

He quickly shook it and shoved it back in his pants.  His face was etched with remorse as he crouched down to check on Missy.  “Oh, babe.  You need a shower now?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, wiping her face with the back of her wrist.  With a grin, she looked up at him.

“Kinda just had one.”