Bob is drunk.
Sloppy and loud and flanked on either side by Paulie and Carey as they try and guide him down the hallway to his hotel room.
Alicia walks a few steps behind them, a little tipsy but but holding her own, and carrying one of Bob’s shoes and his tie draped loosely around her neck.
They had been out celebrating the win and Bob’s third hat trick of the season. The fifteenth of his career.
He might have gone a little overboard but they don’t have a game for another three days so he has time to sleep it off.
“We had them completely turned around,” he slurred, mixing French and English together in the short sentence. “They didn’t know what was going on. Did you see that last goal?”
“Everyone saw your last goal, Bob. They showed it hundreds of times.”
would u write a little bob/alicia thing based on those types of stories you hear where the husband gets really drunk and whenever someone hits on him or his friends try to get him undressed for bed he’s like “NO i have a wife stop it”
Published
what i do is not up to you 