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Chapter ninety-eight

Pamela was still not in her right mind as she sat in the corner with glasses of whiskey on the table in her front. She glanced around and saw the bartender.

"Extra whiskey. Flute…" She waved at the bartender from the corner where she sat.

It was a club she left the house and got there instead of getting angry and breaking things at home, she escaped the trouble of it all.

"Miss I think you're pretty drunk, you should go home." The bartender leaned in to advise her.

"Show me what to do?" She gulped while saying she was pretty heavy and couldn't recall that this was a dilemma. "I don't want to hang around with you." She said casually and slouched back into the seat, she pulled forward, grabbed the flute from the table and raised it to her mouth.

"What? Didn't they bring one just now? How come I have just finished it? Is the glass leaking?" She tried to practicalize everything but her head was banging furiously. She swung the glass in her hand, her head to see backwards but not a single
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