Walter's Hangover

Walter woke up with a thumping headache and rolled over to look at the time, but instead of a cool, empty expanse of bed, he discovered that something was blocking his way to the radio button on his original 1970's orange and brown digital clock radio. He was frightened to open his eyes fully realising that if he did, the room would be swimming and that he'd be violently ill. Instead, Walter tried the feel and grope method of identification. He reached out and touched something decidedly sweaty and hairy. "Oh God" thought Walter. "Have I done something that I'll regret forever? Maybe I am dreaming?" Walter gave his forearm a mighty hard pinch and discovered that while he was not thinking at full capacity he was, indeed, awake. "Shite!" screamed Walter, eliciting a definite groan from the other side of the bed. There was nothing for it. Walter would have to look to see just who or what he had bought from the bar into his boudoir. Slowly he prised one eye open and a shot of light injected his eyeball. For a moment he couldn't see more than a misshapen mound under the bed covers, then his eye slowly began to focus. Brown hair was fanned over the pillow but nothing more was visible underneath the pink bed covers. "Pink?" Realised Walter. "I'm sure I don't have any pink covers." It was all too much. Walter just didn't want to think and decided to close his one working eye to shut out the world again. So where was Walter? Who was the shape under the covers? Will Walter ever be able to front his fave bar again? Find out next time in Walter's wild adventures.