After a bottle of rum and a twelve-pack of beer, Bert suggested he and Quinn leave Jeph and Dan and go fool around in the bunks. He suggested this by standing up, punching Quinn in the chest, and shouting, "Quinn, we should fuck!"

Quinn took another sip of his beer. The bus felt like it was going in circles. It was supposed to go in a straight line. They'd never get to Albany at this rate. Quinn was going to call their manager. He put his phone to his ear, but his phone was a lit cigarette, and he burned some of his hair.

Bert kicked Quinn's shoe. "Quinn! Sex! Now!"

"Will you please take him away from us?" Jeph asked. He was lying on the couch playing some video game that looked to Quinn like a bunch of green ants eating a statue of Gene Simmons.

"I'm too drunk to come," Quinn said.

Bert grinned. "That sounds like a challenge." He grabbed Quinn's hand, yanked him to his feet, and promptly fell over.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at standing, Quinn helped Bert to his bunk, where Bert tossed his dirty clothes on the floor and gestured for Quinn to lie down. "I'm gonna blow you," he said.

Quinn plopped onto his back. "I'm gonna pass out in eight seconds."

Bert struggled with the zipper on Quinn's jeans. After a minute of fighting with it, he leaned back on his heels, shouted, "I can do this! I am a professional!", then bent over the side of the bed and threw up on the floor.

When Quinn woke up his pants were around his ankles, and Bert was passed out beside him, reeking of vomit. Quinn reached over and pulled him into a hug. He always had a great time when he partied with his best friend.