(no subject)

Dirk Bell spent his off time in the bar drinking one beer after another.
"MMMMM, alcohol." After his sixth beer, Bell decided that he should probably go
back to his room. He paid his tab and exited.
Walking through the promenade, Dirk waded through the piles of paper. He picked
up one, curious as to why they were all here. It was some campaign for
promenade director. He saw one name that he recognized- Owen Numan, who owned
the bar he just visited. He checked that name, but realized that he didn't know
where to turn it in. So he just dropped it back on the floor. As returned to
his journey back to his room, he noticed a nasty look being given to him by a
woman who was sweeping up the papers. "Maybe I should have found a garbage can
to put that in," he thought to himself as he went to his room.
Dirk was just a few doors shy of his own room before a sudden pain hit him. His
head throbbed to the point that it blurred his vision. The slightest movement
caused even more pain. He had no idea what was happening. It couldn't have
been the beer; he'd been drinking since he was in his teens and hadn't suffered
anything like this before. He tried to make it to his room, but lost his
balance. Dirk put his hand out to try and break his fall with no luck. As his
head hit the floor, blackness overcame him. He layed passed out on the floor.
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