You get another beer and grab a seat. The buzz from the alcohol starts to calm you down and mussle the sounds from the woods.
In a moment of fatigue your eyes shut and with that the door explodes outward.
You bolt up out of your chair and see a crusty old deadite creeping at your door.
"I'll swallow your soul!" It shrieks as you stand in horror.
You're tired, you're scared, you're a little drunk, but most of all: You're Pissed Off!
You charge for the deadite and tackle him over. The two of you roll on the floor.
You hold him down with one hand and with the other you take out a stake from your bag of goodies.
As the deadite meagerly tries to fight back you jab the stake into his chest; bolting him to the floor.
You reach in your bag and pull out your chainsaw. You have trouble staying on your toes due to the alcohol.
"You wanna swallow sumptin? Hows about this?" You stomp your boot into his teeth and knock a couple out.
As you turn on the chainsaw you are blown back by its force. You try to get a good grasp on it but it's just too heavy for the state that you're in now. You wipe the water out of your eyes and try to hold up the weight of your weapon.
You drop the chainsaw to the floor and bend over to get a better grip.
In your intoxicated state you find it hard to concentrate on the battle and you can't seem to pick the chainsaw back up.
"You shall die!" You spin to see your deadite friend charging at you; blood seeping from his chest and stake in hand.
You're too confused and light headed to dodge him and he impales you in the gut.
You stand, holding your wound, as the deadite grabs your chainsaw.
Your eyes are too blurry to see but as you look over you can make out the image of the deadite.
Your chainsaw turns back on and in one swoop he takes your head off.
Didn't mama ever tell you never to drink and fight?