PLINK, PLINK, FIZZ

When Gillian woke, she knew something felt wrong, but she needed a moment to stabilise her brain. 

The wine or whatever else she’d drunk last night had obviously been more potent than her normal one. Back in France she’d been able to drink a bottle or more with lunch, and still been able to going back to work without a problem. Maybe it was the lack of food that had caused it, or maybe it was a bad drink or seven.

Either way, her mouth was dry, her head was spinning and she felt rough. Not the normal sort of rough that comes from a slight wine hangover but more from some sort of a `vodka` induced event. Maybe that was it, maybe it had been vodka, and she could sort of remember someone shouting if she wanted a drink, but over the noise of the party she couldn’t hear properly so she’d shouted back for a pint.

Back home, she’d usually wake in the early hours and take a pain killer before falling back asleep. Waking later with only a clear head and a fluffy memory, but for some reason, the pain killers had not worked.

Maybe if she’d been home and used her painkillers, then this problem wouldn’t have happened, but then again, if she’d been able to actually get home none of this would have happened. She could feel a tickling between her legs, and she just hoped she’d actually made it back to her friend’s house and wasn’t in some strangers 
bedroom. But the knock at the door and the friendly face of Rachel reassured her that she had actually made it okay.

 

`Do you feel up to a Full English Breakfast? ` She asked quietly from the door.

`No` Gillian waved the thought away. `Not a greasy English Breakfast, no. Do you have croissants? `

`Sorry` Rachel shook her head, `You look really hung over. Do you want an Alka-Seltzer or something? I have some in the kitchen cupboard.`

`No` Gillian shook her head. `I tried two last night, but it did nothing to remove the headache. `

`You did remember to take them with water didn’t you. Remember, Plink, Plink, fizz?` Rachel nodded, reminding her of the instructions. `I told you last night.`

 

It was then that Gillian realised another thing she didn’t like about the English, and the reason she felt, odd down below. `They’re not suppositories are they? ` She shouted as she ran to the toilet,
the fizzing continuing from her bottom.