“It was Bode’s idea to shoot one of the turtles!”
“See, we’re sitting in this empty pool. Around its perimeter are bronze turtle fountains. For no explicable reason, Bode pulls out this gun, screams “Run!” and blasts one of the turtles! The bullet ricochets striking Bode right between the eyes! In his last few moments he mentions something about a turtle biting his toe off when he was a child."
“Even now, the gore brings back memories of my trauma-unit days, with that familiar iron-like smell. Anyway, there wasn’t much we could do, not because we didn’t know how, we’re all drunk!”
“Now get this; I try to drag Bode into the bushes, but I can’t, I’m still drunk! So Brenda says ‘Don’t you think things will move quicker this way, all three of us together?’ and we get him buried.”
“James, still drunk but the only one with an idea races off to a local Wal-mart and there he purchases twelve gallons of turpentine and a mop and we clean the pool.”
“So, that’s my binge drinking story, I bet you can’t top it!”