Phillip's Drinking Begins to Interfere with His Life

"Goddammit, Phil. You're drunk."

"Huh?"

"It's Tuesday."

"Wha- Oh."

"Yeah," I said. "You idiot."

"Hol' on. I'll ge'reddy."

"No, you're staying put," Sal snapped. "I'll go."

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged agreement. "Tom's meeting us there. On meal break."

"But it's Tuesday!"

"Bosses don't care."

When we arrived, the basement was thick with the usual shadows and sense of foreboding.

"Ready?"

Sal and Tom hefted their weapons. I tossed back the lid, and they went at it.

"Fools!" gasped the Count as he withered away. "I will rise again, three days hence..."

"Yeah," I told him. "See you on Friday."