***This is a continuation of the story from Kiss: Casablanca High School, so read that first if you want! It's not necessary to but it would help***
It's been five years since anyone's heard anything from Gene Simmons, and at this point Paul Stanley...
The five of us walked into the grocery store, all splitting to various aisles. "How the hell do we keep running out of food so quickly? Like we went through a thirty pound ham in like three days," I muttered. Eric grinned, shrugging. "I like to eat man, and so does everyone else. Sorry."
After getting some actual food we joined Peter in the liquor aisles, where he was scanning the shelves looking for, apparently, that special something.
"Oh baby, come to papa!" Peter said, cackling wildly as he grabbed a bottle off the shelf. "Ooh, what'd you get?" Eric asked, looking up from the grocery list. Absolutely beaming, Peter showed us the bottle. "It's Vodquila!" he said excitedly. Me and Eric stared at each other before looking back at him. "Is that...vodka mixed with tequila?" I asked slowly. As he nodded, a huge smile split Eric's face. "Oh, hell yes! Oh baby we are gonna get beyond blackout drunk!"
"Me personally, I'll just watch you two do that. I like having higher brain function and all that," I said, heading toward the checkout with the rest of the stuff we needed that wouldn't kill us.
Paul and Ace were both as equally excited about the newfound Vodquila, which meant later that night the four of them were getting set up for a drinking contest. "Guys I seriously don't think this is a good idea. I mean how much alcohol is in that?" I asked slowly. Eric gave me a grin, accepting the shot glass Peter handed him. "Stop being such a dad, Bruce! Join in!" I shook my head, sitting back in my chair. "With Gene gone, someone has to be responsible, and since none of you clowns want to it's up to me to make sure we all survive the trip to California," I muttered.
Peter uncorked the bottle and I could smell the pungent mix of alcohol even from halfway across the room. "Alright here's the game! We all take shots together, last one standing wins!" he said excitedly, pouring out four shots. "Wins what?" Paul asked, raising an eyebrow. "I dunno, we'll figure that out tomorrow. Money, probably. Or maybe one of Eric's t-shirts!" "Hell no, I earned every single one of those. You can pry them from my cold dead hands," he retorted, before lifting his shot glass with a huge grin. "Alright boys, bottoms up!"
The four of them knocked back their shots before wincing collectively. "Oh shit that is strong," Ace cried, shaking his head. "Oh damn we're gonna get so plastered," Peter said with a giggle, pouring another round.
I sat watching them as they kept going, doing round after round of shots of Vodquila in what seemed like the worst possible idea for a drinking contest, getting drunker and drunker as the night went on. Eric set down his shot glass after way more rounds than was good for him, shaking his head before stumbling over to me.
"H'lo b'ful," he said, giving me a smile and sitting next to me. I ruffled his hair with a laugh. "Hey Eric. You tapping out?" He nodded with a yawn, curling up into a ball and resting his head on my legs. "Mmkay g'night," he mumbled, closing his eyes and passing out.
"Night man. Probably a good idea you tapped out. Not exactly the best thing for you to be drinking," I said, patting him on the head and watching as the remaining three kept going.
"Y'all probably shouldn't drink all that, that's a lot of alcohol," I said slowly. Peter took another shot, pointing at me with a huge smile. "Succhiami le dita dei piedi, ragazzo mio, sto bevendo tutta questa bottiglia, qualunque cosa tu dica!" he cried. Ace burst into laughter, taking a swig straight from the bottle and falling on top of Peter, cackling. "Ooh, y-you sexy spaghetti boy, I love it when you talk that w-way!" he said with a hiccup.
Peter reached over him, pouring himself another shot with unsteady hands, knocking it back with a shudder. Paul poured himself a shot but didn't drink it, staring at the glass before leaning over and puking in the trashcan. "Yeah okay Paul you're done, alright?" I called. He nodded, giving me a thumbs up before staggering to the bathroom and falling asleep in the shower.
Eric mumbled something in his sleep and shifted, pressing his face against my thigh while Peter and Ace kept going. "Mollare, vinco! Sei troppo bello per battermi!" Peter shouted, evidently so drunk he forgot how to speak English. Ace giggled, red face getting even redder. "Ooh yeah that's hot," he purred, giving Peter a wink and taking a shot. "Vaffanculo," Peter grumbled, which Ace found endlessly endearing probably because he didn't know Peter just told him to fuck off.
Between the two of them, they finished off what was left of the bottle before Peter climbed on top of Ace and immediately started to make out with him. How they were sober enough to know how to kiss someone, or even still alive, was beyond me.
"Alright I'm going to bed before this goes any further and you're coming with me," I said, scooping up Eric and carrying him to our room, setting him on the bed before checking in on Paul, who was fast asleep in the bathtub. "You stay there," I said, throwing a towel over him as a blanket before returning to my room and tucking Eric into our bed. "I swear if you throw up on me in the middle of the night you're dead," I muttered. He rolled over, throwing an arm across my chest and burying his face in my shoulder, slurring something along the lines of 'I love you' before falling back asleep.
I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep while ignoring both the sound of Eric snoring and the sound of Peter and Ace having fun in the living room.
They were all gonna be so hungover in the morning.
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