“Dude! Leave his shoes on, then we can draw on his face!”, he heard the first voice suggest.
“No way man”, the second voice echoed in his brain. “It’s his birthday, it’s his party. Least we can do is let him pass out in peace. ”
Dante felt very sick at this point, and found himself unable to even sit up. He needed sleep. Right now. It sucked that he was passing out at his own party, but right now he was too tired and too drunk and too drugged to care. He managed to make his eyes focus to check the time. 11:50 the clock on the cable box said.
Too tired to smile, Dante settled for smiling inwardly. He might be passing out a teenager, but when he woke up, he’d be a man.