Johnny sat desolate at the bar, his head down, keeping well under the haze of tobacco smoke and other narcotics. In front of him lay dozens of bottles, each one empty and for every 2 there was a man sprawled on the floor, drunk, after challenging Johnny to a drinking contest. He soon became bored of this place, and planned on leaving, well, at least after his furry little friend sobered up. "Softies, the lot of them." He mumbled as he drifted into sleep.
