I woke up sometime later on a couch in one of the hotel suites. Every single inch of my body hurt, and as dramatic as it sounds, I was sure I was dying. Someone had kindly cleaned and bandaged my hands and covered me with a blanket…I guess they were hoping I was going to live. I glanced around the room. It was empty, but I could hear voices on the other side of a door in the far corner. On the coffee table, sitting in a puddle of condensation, was a crystal glass filled with amber liquid and the remnants of melting ice-cubes. The smell of the sweet Irish whiskey from two feet away gave me hope…if I could smell the whiskey, my nose probably wasn"t broken or too badly damaged. I sat up painfully and noticed the aspirin bottle next to the glass, and attempted to smile through my cut lips. Bil
