The thing is: Dante considered escape, but something in him didn’t want to, just yet. Sure, he was 18 and dressed like a baby while nursing a bottle. But this felt kind of nice. And Judy didn’t seem so bad right now either. A happy gurgle escaped his lips and some milk dribbled down his chin. Judy smiled and wiped it away with her hand. Heh…funny. None of the vomit she had slipped in earlier had gotten on Judy’s outfit. Weird.
As he finished the bottle, the pressure in his stomach told him that his hang-over wasn’t completely cured. Despite himself, Dante began to whimper and looked up at Judy with puppy-dog eyes. “Fix it! Fix it” his eyes said.