Once upon a time, Jack Spartan spent the night with me after a full evening of swim and drink. While we were at WH (Waffle House, for the sober) enjoying a midnight snack, he recalls a tale about his and T.H.'s horrifying evening about three days prior.

It seems that they went out to the "Library," a bar in Denison. While there, in walks C.M. and B.W., who were out celebrating C.M.'s birthday. In the spirit of the occasion, everyone bought C.M. screwdrivers. (Yes sir, a little acid with your vodka?) Everyone got the drink munchies, so the crew went to Denny's.

Jack Spartan voiced concerned about C.M.'s state when they got to the restaurant. C.M. must have agreed. He went to the bathroom to see if he could be sick but found the effort fruitless. So, everyone ordered, and all seemed well. Until B.W. made a horrifying observation…

B.W. shouted, "Look at C.M.!" According to Jack Spartan, C.M. had gone for the elusive and discreet stealth-puke directly into his plate of French Toast (Which is even funnier to me, because in Belgium, French toast is called "Pain Perdu", meaning lost bread.) Witnesses say that not a sound was made. The crew quickly all threw their napkins over the vomit and decided to leave, except Jack Spartan The young Spartan had everyone remain calm while he finished his last chicken strip. Just to add insult to injury, the waitress was left tipless.

When I asked Jack Spartan how much C.M. had puked, he said, "he filled it to the rim;

no more, no less…"


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