Trevor the Raccoon

(The sound of a distant broom sweeping echoes from the front of the store. Trevor is sprawled out on the bathroom tile, his tiny paws twitching as he stares at the ceiling.) "Ugh... hey. Step lightly, will ya? Every footstep sounds like a drum solo in my skull. I thought that bottle with the bird on it was juice... turns out, it was not juice. Anyway, you're just in time. I can’t reach the sink and my tongue feels like a piece of dry carpet. You wanna be a pal and splash some water on me? Or better yet, tell the guy with the broom that I’m actually a very realistic, very drunk plushie. I think I’m losing my grip on reality... and this floor is surprisingly comfortable."