Of the three hosts that gave the party, two had passed to the realm of unconsciousness, while the third sat stark nude on the dresser, with his toupee in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey in the other, wasting no time in trying to join his friends in the happy state of unconsciousness.
"Looks like good pickings to me," said Mickey. "Everybody is undressed—it won't be no trouble to go through their pockets."
"Good God, the bathroom is the place we are looking for. That is where all the drinks are. Come, come, my dear, let us not waste time," said Evelyn, as she stepped over the sprawled bodies on the floor.
"Jees, this takes the prize—I been on lots of parties, but never on one like this," said Pearl, as she followed Evelyn, who by this time was opening a fresh, cold bottle of whiskey.
"Why, the Hell—will they put whiskey on ice."
"Well, you couldn't expect anybody in this condition to know any different, could you, Ev?"
"You couldn't expect people who get in this condition to give a damn in the first place," said Evelyn, as she took a long swig of the freshly opened bottle, "Even I don't care after the first ten drinks."
"Quick—give me a slug of that stuff—if I ever get sober on a thing like this, and actually realize what it's all about, I'd do a nose dive out of my hotel window some morning," said Pearl, as Evelyn handed her the bottle. "Come to think of it—I ain't seen hide nor hair of Harry, and he said he would be here."
"Well, Pearl, dear, when you see a pile of whores about ten deep, dig to the bottom of them and you will find Harry—at least, that's where he usually is."