There have been school-night benders. You know the ones: big, churny nights out that give a whole new meaning to the word "hangover." But this is next level stuff.
Some guy turned up to work totally trashed from the night before.
Wait, no. "Totally trashed" doesn't do it justice.
As we'd say in the UK, this bloke's mangled. Proper trollied. Utterly Oliver Twist (cockney rhyming slang for "pissed," which is English slang for "fucked up").
You get the idea. He was in no way shape or form ready to a take on the workday ahead of him. But at least he tried. Ten points for effort.
His colleague was on hand to film the whole thing. Watch it; learn from it.
Whoa. Did you see that? This guy's incomprehensible. His colleague asks,
Uh oh. A month's trial. This isn't good, Dave, not good at all.
But Dave's got an answer. He says,
His colleague asks what he's been doing all night, which is fair enough. Dave replies,
Then Dave swipes at his colleague's phone to try to stop his recording, but his motor skills are no better than his speech, and he appears to recoil in fear.
He maintains, then concludes,
Oh, Dave, the only place you're going is bed and probably for quite some time.
Keep slayin', Dave. Just make sure you hold down a job so you can afford to keep the party real.
*Cancels plans for quiet catch-up beers with friends on Wednesday night*