William had duct-taped the bottle of Laphroiac upside down on a drip feed so he wouldn't have to take his eyes off the scrabble board. "kyrgyzstan" he announced. "Beeeeeeeeeuuuuuutch," he added, belching. Bubbles rose through the single malt scotch

Dirk was on his third peanut butter and mescaline sandwich and was trying to play a word vertically, but couldn't make the letters hover in the air. Finally he tried another ploy. "jsdhgf" he whispered significantly, wide eyed. Scott glanced across the room at the dictionary uneasily but Dirk had his Malaysian machete strapped to his thigh so they let the neologism slide. "Nice," Scott said.

Scott found a vein and played the word "beer," for the third time, the only word he had played all night.

How does he keep getting all the E's, William wondered. Gillespie lunged, pinning Rettberg to the table. "Get his shoes!" he screamed. Dirk pulled off Scott's shoe and 10 E's tumbled to the floor. Dirk stared, awestruck.

"Hey," Rettberg chuckled, "I always play scrabble with a great deal of ease."

"Beer," Dirk muttered, "Be 'ere. Be here." He lay down and stared at the ceiling to ponder the heaviness of this.

"5-Methyl-2-(1-methyl-allyl)-hex-4-en-1-ols" William announced, "1,567 points. That's chemistry for 'kiss my ass'."