Alice woke up with only one shoe on. But it wasn’t hers, not even close to the tiny size 4s that she had carefully selected for her night out. No, these were much bigger, and a bright, bold shade of pink.

As she picked herself up, resting back on her elbows, Alice wondered where she was. She recalled going to Travis’ “I bought a new house, so let’s have one last party in this old dive” party. But beyond that, everything was hazy.

One deep breath, and Alice started to cough. She knew the smell even before the hoarse noise left her throat. Somebody was smoking pot.

She rolled over onto her stomach, attempting to stand up. She smoked her head on something solid. She swore. What was above her?

With one hand rubbing the goose egg on her head, she reached the other straight up to see what had caused such instant and excruciating pain. Something wooden. Alice squinted through the haze of smoke. A table, she was under a table? Why there?

Alice attempted to stand again, hitting her head in a new spot this time.

Why? Why was she wearing this shoe? Where was she? And why under a table?