Tony’s head was pounding after smacking against the side wall of the truck. His parched mouth and bone dry eyes led him to believe he would not feel any different if he had woken in a nice bed. His eye’s slowly came into focus and he noticed a dark sky and unfamiliar faces. He moaned and laboriously made his way to sitting up.

“Where am I?”

“Hola amigo. ¿Dormiste bien?”

Shit.

The other men in the truck fell about laughing. A bewildered Tony tried to take it all in. He’d gotten himself into some jams before but nothing like this.

“Where are we?”

“Vamos a trabajar, amigo.”

The men could hardly contain themselves. This was the sorriest sight they had seen. Tony went to grab his phone but realized these weren’t his pants. What the hell happened? The last thing he remembered was going to the bar and talking to some new guys, but the rest was hazy at best. He vaguely remembered a bet.

“Where are my pants?”

“Te orinaste. Mucho.”

Perfect. The truck rumbled to a stop and the men began unloading while Tony sat there. A nicer dressed man came across the yard and stood in front of Tony.

“Morning sunshine. Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

He handed Tony a shovel and pointed back across the yard towards to johns.

“Two holes, hotshot.”

“I think there’s been a mistake.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m not supposed to be here.”

“$500 says you are.”

A memory began swimming it’s way up through the liquor still sloshing around his brain.

“Oh god.”

“There he is. Now cmon. You told us this was easy. Now prove it.”