Shots and Slugs

I put slug & snail bait around my flowers, otherwise I would have no flowers. Every morning I go and check the carnage and I'm amazed at the congregated masses of shrivelling slugs being baked by the morning sun. I begin to reconstruct the scene and I'm reminded of a party. It starts with a couple beers (slugs love beer by the way) then someone pulls out the tequila bottle (I think worms like tequila). Time to do shots. You give in to the peer pressure, "Its just one shot man!". And of course you give in because you're no pussy and besides its only one shot. It goes down smooth and easy. Then you become the Antichrist urging others to join in. It feels so good. " I can't feel my lips." " I know man, its awesome. Dude... I'm so buzzed!" You become master of the obvious. "Dude the tequila's gone!" Now it hits you. Things are happening fast. The world's spinning. There's laughing, crying, hugging. Deep secrets are being shared and hopefully forgotten. The sun's coming up! MUST...GET...TO...BED. You can't walk. You can't talk. Its goin' to hurt...BAD! Your a slug! You took the bait.