I woke upside down on the roof of the mansion. My ears throbbed, my throat and ass were on fire and my neck was so crooked it could’ve gotten into politics. The only thing that stopped me becoming inspiration for the isekai writer was the fact there was this sparrow perched on an antenna beside me staring at me with its cute little eyes. It had been a long while since I saw a bird.

I climbed back through the window of the mansion like a slug with arthritis. I landed on the floor in a floppy heap and didn’t respond when one of the crime writers poked me with a stick.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself off the ground and crawl to the drinks table. I grabbed a familiar-looking steel bucket, quarter-filled with beer and melted ice, took the beer out and dunked my head in.

My headache instantly froze. I was gasping when I came up for air.

‘Hey man,’ came a voice from behind me, ‘I would’ve stopped you, but, you kinda looked possessed.’

It was a wuxia writer. He was sitting on the table eating a slice of watermelon.

‘Huh?’ I said, trying to focus my eyes, ‘What?’

‘The bucket.’ He pointed towards it and suddenly I knew where I’d seen the bucket before.

‘That’s not...’ I began.

But he just nodded, ‘Yep. That’s a poop bucket. You dunked your head into some guy’s poop bucket.’

I felt tears forming, ‘Bu-but, the beer?’

‘Is in an enclosed container – you can still drink it no worries.’

‘What kind of a sicko puts beer in their poop bucket?’

‘The kind of sicko who celebrated four years of being out of the cells last night.’

The guy adjusted his glasses, ‘You don’t know Johnny?’

I tried to rub my head with a tablecloth, ‘I don’t know anyone in this place.’

‘Hey! Eli!’

I turned, Manuel was staring down at me, ‘There you are. I was about to call Al-Man. I mean Alex...I thought you’d died.’

I laughed, it hurt my head, but it felt good, ‘Manuel, even if I died I’d just come back as a spirit or a traffic jam or something, just to piss Alex off.’

He cocked his head, ‘Yeah... sure... whatever makes you happy I guess.’

He nodded towards his bike, which still sat outside despite the keys hanging from the ignition, ‘Want a ride?’

****

We sped along the roads in a fast freefall. But as exhilarating as it was to have the wind in my hair it also made me hella sick. The moment we got to my place I threw up in the neatly manicured lavender bushes.

Manuel wished me luck and sped off as I crawled into my perfect house, getting dirt across the floor. The bed was too far so I crashed on the sofa.

I had just finished the mega-task of taking my shoes off and wrapping myself in a blanket-cocoon when a sharp beeping broke my hangover zen.

The beeping was coming from my computer which had been installed on a desk for me while I was away. I tried to ignore the beeping for a while, but it was such a loud and all-consuming beep I was worried my eardrums were going to shatter into a million pieces.

I crawled heroically over to my computer, only pausing midway to drink some water out of a pot-plant to regather my strength.

And when I got through my carpet odyssey. Who should I find was calling me?

Goat-humping, tie-ruining, sadistic-leaning Alex.

‘Eli! That took a while.’

‘Sorry I...’ I waved my hand vaguely in the air, ‘What do you want?’

‘Well...’ He gave a lemon-like smile, ‘I thought I’d just call for a morning chat. See how your chapters for the day are coming along?’

I rubbed my eyes, ‘Chapters?’

‘Yes. The chapters you’re supposed to be writing to afford this expensive lifestyle you’ve chosen.’ he eyeballed a new, very expensive looking wristwatch, ‘It’s already 3pm and my star writer hasn’t produced a chapter since he got to writer’s heaven.’

I rubbed the space in between my eyes, ‘Hey... you were the one that...’

‘...offered you the opportunity to get out of the dorms. You’re the one that took it Eli. And what? You got drunk last night, wasted half the day getting home, and now you’re feeling sorry for yourself?’

I moaned.

‘I have no problem with a bit of fun Eli.’ He gestured to his spew-coloured tie with slugs on it, ‘But you need to be doing the work to support it.’

I groaned, ‘Yeah, yeah... i'll do it okay. Quit shouting.’

‘I’m talking Eli. Just talking. And you nee-’

I shut down the computer, pulled the plug from the wall and unplugged the speakers.

‘Oh man...’ I moaned, taking five minutes to muster the courage to turn the computer back on again. When I finally got the Crusher Media writing app up I found myself staring at the blank screen, tongue out, not a thought in my head.

‘Hey.’ said a voice from my shattered glass window.

I turned, it was Manuel.

‘How’s the writing?’ he said.

I turned in my plush new writing chair, ‘Oh fine... fine... I think I’ll probably be kicked out of here by next week.’

He laughed and lit up a cigarette.

‘They let you have cigarettes here?’ I asked. Manuel gave a comic-book-villain grin, ‘I can get anything in here Eli.’ He lifted the cigarette, ‘For the right price.’

I looked back at my screen – it was an expanse of white.

‘That was one of the best nights of my life last night,’ I said, ‘It’s just a pity it’s transformed into the worst morning since I got in here.’

Manuel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small orange container, he shook it and the rattle drove my headache crazy, ‘I got something for you.’ He said, tossing it to me.

I caught it awkwardly, ‘Will they end my suffering?’

He grinned, ‘No. But they’ll end your dry patch on the keyboard.’

‘And how much are you gonna deduct from my paycheck for these beauties?’

He winked, ‘First round’s on me... when you need more, then we’ll talk.’

I unscrewed the lid – inside was about 10 orange pills I shook them, pulled one out, then turned back to Manuel.

But he was gone. I closed my eyes a moment and could hear him trying to start his motorbike. I wheeled myself over to the window, ‘You’re like batman!’ I called out, and he grinned as he finally got his motorbike started. He roared off through a bunch of sunflowers.

‘The shit George Cloney one...’ I mumbled to myself.

I went back to the pills. The container was on its side and one pill had spilt out onto my desk. I picked up the orange pill and stared at it until I could swear it was starting to stare back at me.

‘Okay. Fine’ I said to the pill, ‘I don’t even care if you’re going to mentally impair me. I’m still going to have better fashion sense than Alex.’

I swallowed the pill.