The Improbable Drunk

“Come on! I’m not actually that drunk!”

The decrepit specimen of a noble flew over the curb of the street as the bouncers to disreputable tavern threw him as far as any man could possibly fly without wings.

Florence was quite a beauty at this time of year, with congestion along almost every street and notorious theives and some would even whisper assassins blending into the enormous crowds, whether they lok for targets or just enjoy the atmosphere is anyones guess.

Strong hands yanked the nobleman to his feet, supporting his shoulder and helping him drag his inebriated legs towards his estate. As they walked, or rather stumbled on their way, they could hear the music and fireworks of the festival nearer the centre of town.

“I swear I am not drunk, I just cannot function pop… porpor… properly”

His guard smiled, patting his shoulder.

“Sure you aren’t Lorenzo, now lets see if we can get some help off your old friend Davinci shall we?”

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