By Jessica Gleason
Sometimes it isn’t safe for two girls to go out for a night on the town, and it has nothing to do with short skirts and spiked cocktails.
“Urgle...” It took me a while, but I had managed to pry mycrusted eyes open and was met with darkness. “I think we drank too much last night.”
No response. “Rave... You alive? You even here or am I talking to myself? Fuck, my brain hurts—I think we did more damage last night than those idiot co-eds do ina year.” There was an inaudible gurgle from a few feet away.
“What the hell did we do last night?” Rave responded, slowly with the tongue of a half-conscious cotton-mouthed lush.
“I don't remember, but I bet it was fun.” The blinding headache was impeding my ability to sort things out.
“Why am I in my underwear?” Rave managed.
“Hrmpfhhh...You got me. Probably the same reason I'm in my underwear. I'm betting it wasn't some sweet lesbo action.”
“Yah, probably not, but there could have been some hard-core bestiality for all I know.”
“I don't even want to think about that. You're gross. So, where the hell are we?” I said, sitting up and rubbing my stiff neck. Cold concrete did wonders for the spine.
“From what I gather, we're laid out in the dark on a concrete floor.”
“Oh, thank you for pointing that out. You are grand-master of all that is obvious. It's good to see the alcohol didn't wipe away your winning sense of humor.” I padded around a bit searching for a wall with a light switch or something, to no avail. It was seriously dark and creep-tacular. “Well, from what I can tell there's a door over here—locked—and a few walls. I bet it's a basement or something, this place is tiny.”
“Dammit Mage, why the hell are we half-naked and in a random basement? There could have at least been hunky men here to wake up with. I would not have remembered them, but at least I could have probably deduced that I had been laid. That would have been infinitely better than waking up in a ten by ten windowless cell half-naked with only you to keep me company. This is some creepy Saw shit. If a ventriloquist dummy on a tricycle rolls on in here, you're dead.”