“God, how drunk were we Sam?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?! Honestly, it was your fault, you were the one buying shots for everyone!”
“Okay Brandon, but you clicked send!”
The computer screen lit up their faces as they starred in complete and total embarrassment at the email they had sent out yesterday, Friday, or Saturday, rather at approximately 3:32 am. They were too concerned to even notice their massive headache and general stench.
“I mean what kind of dumbass would cut their finger open, almost to the bone, trying to open a CoorsLight?! What are you, a freshman?”
“Shut up Brandon, I didn’t write the email,” Sam said, holding up his poorly wrapped finger.
The pain of the cut started throbbing as Sam sobered up.
“I mean,” he exhaled, pacing around the room, “they probably won’t read it anyway, its CoorsLight.”
“You better hope you’re right”
Three years later, and many, many court days passed, the judge decided to rule in favor of the once poor college senior. Now Sam and Brandon were back at the college bar where it all began. Now, only $100,000 richer.