[Sam is sitting on his bed, bundled up in a jacket and looking a little tired. In one hand is a full bottle of vodka. In the other is a lighter. He keeps looking from one hand to the other, mumbling to himself.]
There was something I was supposed to do.
[He flicks the lighter once or twice, looking from the flame to the alcohol and back again.
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Was it attending a lecture on being a good member of the Party?
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What? Oh, no. No way. How could I forget a thing like that?
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[Because no one is stupid enough to miss the lectures. Ever :|]
And how are you doing today, Sam?
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I'm just peachy. There's enough vodka to keep most of my extremities warm, so what's there to complain about?
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....
Not a bad idea.
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