Les Aventures des Alastair et Allen

"I bet I can get more chicks tonight."
"You're drunk."
"Of courseeee" Alastair hiccupped. "But that's because we're at a club."
"I don't even know how you got in here – you're fucking underage." Allen muttered, as he finished off his drink, placing his empty tumbler on the countertop.
"We're in Europe, remember?" Alastair gestured towards the club in front of them, sweeping his hand around the room. "It's sixteen here! Damn, even some of those babies that you've fathered could probably come here!"
Allen rolled his eyes, ever so slightly. "Who even let you near the drinks?"
"You know, the first time I had something to drink, it was-"
"No. No, I don't know, and I don't want to know, either." Allen interrupted Alastair, and was about to continue, when his gaze landed on a certain girl.

Her chocolate-coloured hair was let loose, cascading down her shoulders. Wearing a plain white dress, she was almost like a vision of beauty – ethereal, to say the least. She seemed to out of place, yet...
Allen couldn't take his gaze off her.
Damn.

Alastair followed his gaze, and saw what had captured his friend's fancy. An evil smirk appeared on his face, as he chalked out a plan to make this evening...ahem, "eventful".
"Betcha I can get with her before you."
"Bullshit." Allen retorted, ordering another drink for himself.
"No, no, I'm dead serious about this, bro – I bet you I can. A bet. Whatever's in my wallet, right now."
Allen looked towards Alastair, quirking up an eyebrow in question, then he shook his head. "Nah, you're seriously drunk."
"I'm not drunk! Seriously!"
"Fine."