Hangover mocks your feeble 'cures'

18-12-12

YOU shall not banish me with your so-called remedies, says your hangover.

“I’ll be jabbing this spiky thing deep into your brain.”

As you consume handfuls of headache pills, a 93-rasher bacon sandwich and various expensive herbal potions, your hangover assured you that such efforts were worthless.

It said: “I would be angry if your efforts were not so pitiful. In fact, they amuse me.

“You summoned me, yet again, with your dogged insistence on consuming the dark liquors that bring only suffering.

“Now I am careering around your brain on a train with razor blade wheels, like an evil version of those things from In The Night Garden.

“I shall be staying all day, and possibly tomorrow. Let me check my diary.

“Yep, tomorrow is good for me.”

Your hangover added: “Cower as I make everything look painfully bright and slightly blurry. Whimper as I seed your mind with paranoid anxieties.

“Feel me strumming your neurotransmitters like banjo strings, sending sunbursts of pain out through your eyeballs and making you want to barf.

“Drink energy drinks, take a cold shower, eat a raw egg, I don’t care.

“Have another aspirin and kneel before my awful might.”

 

 

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