The Saving of The Niles

THUD!!! Was the sound that I heard, as I awoke from a sober sleep. I groaned miserably at the realization that being sober, this was the best I would feel all day. Normally a hangover reminds me that the day improves as it goes on. This was just depressing. The loud noise above me was accompanied by noises that sounded like someone drunkingly and drinkingly beating the ever living fuck out of someone and taking said someone’s shit. Could it be? I tried not to get my hopes up, as I’ve been disappointed before… like when I heard the song Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer and it said “You know Dasher and Dancer and etc., etc.” and then gets to the part where it says “but do you recall, the most famous reindeer of all?” Which is extremely stupid to say the least, because if you even have to ask someone who knows about all the other reindeer whether or not they “recall” the “most famous reindeer” then that reindeer really wouldn’t be the most famous one would it? I mean, if my recollection of Rudolph is even in question but it’s assumed that I know all the other ones, then wouldn’t Rudolph be the least famous reindeer of all? Bitterly disappointing and I’m still scarred because of it… but in spite of my cautionary self, I became hopeful anyway at the sound of Bon Jovi’s “Have a Nice Day” being played triumphantly for approximately seven seconds before being abruptly turned off, subsequently followed by the gruff and drunken statement “Damn The Jovi!” At that point I knew it had to be true. The Boss had come to save me from my sobriety… and I suppose my imprisonment as well.
Just as my hopes were as high as an old man’s pants, The Boss emerged through the door of the hull (still weird to call it a hull and not a haf) wearing an old style captain’s hat and holding a bottle of 14 yr Oban in one hand and a waffle iron in the other. Quickly, The Boss threw me the bottle and I guzzled it drinkingly, becoming intoxicated as I watched The Boss take a drink out of the waffle iron, which was somehow plugged in by a very, very long extension cord.
“Ow!” yelped The Boss. Then he pointed the waffle iron to the sky (or the ceiling of the hull/haf by which we were in) and exclaimed loudly “Damn The Jovi!” I wept at the magnificence of this perfectly executed exclaim. I told him he never gives himself enough credit for his exclaiming ability, to which we both exclaimed in unison and Air-Guitared the theme to Happy Days, but not the hull song, rather just the haf of it that included the big ending with the twice-uttered “Happy Days.” It was joyous, and a crew member who happened to hear this iconic dual-exclaim died by shear magnification of awesomeness. The Boss let me out of my imprisonment, which in hind sight was actually just a waist-high fence that I probably could’ve jumped over had I not been so debilitatingly sober and we hurried up to gaze out upon the ocean, as we sometimes are known to do. The Boss, shaking his head and muttering hateful sayings about The Jovi, haf-listened to my tale of the single malt known only as Glengodly.
“We’ll get that scotch.” The Boss said ominously.
“And we’ll get that The Jovi too.” I replied, not quite as ominously as The Boss, but still fairly ominous in my own right. We continued to gaze out over the ocean, drinkingly of course.