The ride to his home wasn’t as quiet as Arthur had anticipated. The once sleepy and reserved Sheila was now a completely different person.
Drunk Sheila was a menace.
Her words tumbled over each other in an endless, nonsensical stream of thoughts that had Arthur struggling to hold back his laughter.
"You know what I don't get, drop dead gorgeous?" she suddenly said, waving a hand in the air dramatically.
He rolled his eyes. When will she stop calling him that?
He glanced at her from the driver’s seat, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. "What?"
"Why do people say 'I'm drunk as a skunk'? Do skunks even drink?" She frowned as if this was a life-altering question.
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought about it.”
“Do you think skunks get drunk?” she asked, her voice
