Jungle Island Hijinx! - Part 1

The unfortunate part of hangovers as you get older is how bad they get. It seems like yesterday you could pack away beer after beer without regretting it the next day. Now a few shots and beers keels you over. Waking up and facing the day feels like hell.

Something feels amiss, but your beer-soaked head can't yet place it. It's way too hot. You must have left the heater on all night. Not to mention your bed is full of crumbs. Blacking out and eating in bed is amateur hour at best. At least the crashing of waves keeps your throbbing head from completely overwhelming you.

There's just one problem: Thirst. No matter how bad you feel your parched mouth won't drink itself, and saliva doesn't seem to be forthcoming. Taking a peek immediately sears your eyes. "Ok, I left the heater on AND the windows open." You try to nuzzle back into bed to nurse this new pain, but the rubber is as hot as the heater.

Rubber?

Without opening your eyes again, you feel around for the blankets but everything feels like hot rubber and crumbs. Your confusion grows, almost making you open your eyes agai-

*CRASH!*

Your whole bed suddenly lurches around and cool water is splashes all over your body. The sudden cold against your skin immediately kicks you out of your hangover stupor. Next thing you know you are sitting up and trying to open your eyes against the burning light. A fresh salt smell fills your nostrils. Before your wits fully return, your stomach decides it wants to speak first.

And by speak, it means puke. In all honesty you would take being parched than the awful bile taste in your mouth right now.

"Cleanup isle bedside," you say to nobody in particular. Cracking open an eye to survey the damage, again you are met with another mystery. Mixed with chunks of yesterday and sickly orange-yellow streaks is sand. And not just a little sand either. Now you know something is amiss, and raise you eyes against the bright sun.

Sand. Beach. Waves. "Whaaa?" Looking down you don't see a crumb-filled bed, but a small half-deflated life raft covered in sand.

"Oh shit!"

---

The trouble with blackouts is you cannot, for the life of you, figure out how you got here. You don't even own a raft nor live near any body of water. It's one of those details that keeps nagging you, but your blackout teasingly hides. But you've watched enough survivor movies to know that without water or shelter, you are in trouble. Your brain works even if it hurts like the wrath of Khan. The sunburns on your head and legs don't help.

You rinse off the sand and dry salt in the water while contemplating your next move. Despite the salt water of the waves, you wash out the leftover bile from your mouth and try and sooth your sunburns in the cool water. Probably not the smartest move, but hey it's better than bile even if you are more thirsty than before.

With most of the sand washed out, you turn your attention to the destroyed raft. It's condition, combined with your lack of memories, is unsettling. You check again for bruises or wounds, but luckily the raft took all the damage for you. Unfortunately it's nearly unsalvageable. But maybe it could be used as a shawl against the oppressive sun. Getting out of the sun before you sweat out the last of your moisture is a must!

Gazing around, you notice an outcropping of sharp volcanic rock. At least you think it's volcanic. It seems the sea didn't send you with a computer and active internet connection. Such an inconvenience! Right up there with dragging a heavy rubber raft to cut it into a makeshift cover. You press the rubber against the rocks where they are sharpest and carefully saw the material. You hear the rip of rubber as the rocks dig deep, careful that your own flesh isn't cut accidentally.

After several minutes, you manage to tear out a large sheet that's light enough to wrap around your body. You idly wonder what to do with the rest of the raft as you pull the sheet over yourself, but are interrupted when a huge white crystal falls out of the folded rubber. Suddenly a flood of memories hits you: Weird shop, "magic crystal", waaay too many hours on /monster/, and the desire to see if the woman who sold you it wasn't entirely kidding.

"With this you can get your own cute girlfriend," she said while you browsed the various trinkets, "No girl will resist you if you use this!"

"Yeah right," the disbelief just creeping into your tone, "but maybe it will make a fun gift."

"Don't believe me? Tell you what. I'll let you borrow it. If it doesn't work, then simply return it!"

You can't tell what the angle is. Is it drugs? Something illicit? Maybe it's dangerous! "I don't want to get involved in something shady, lady."

"When it works you can come back and pay me."

"Don't you mean 'if'?" You can feel your eyebrows stitch in confusion.

Her smirk nearly answers for you. "Nope."

Thinking back, you can't remember what she looked like. God damn hangovers.