Beer Pong

There were tables at the back of the bar. Lois saw the paddles, the red plastic cups. Two smiling young men, white and black, on one side, their names were Jorge and Mac; the reporter took up her position next to the green-haired young woman, whose name it turned out was Aimee.

Then the game began.

Lois had never played beer pong, but she knew the gist of the rules. If the ball was knocked into a team's cup, they had to drink it. Whichever team drank all their cups lost. A good excuse to get really drunk, really fast...

...but drunk people were less guarded, more likely to let things slip. Even half-buzzed as she was, Lois Lane aimed to win.

So for the first time in her life she experienced the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of beer pong. The thrill every time the ball splashed into one of their cups. The terror when the ball slipped past Aimee's guard and into one of their own. The strangely sour taste of the green beer as it slid down her throat.

It wasn't long before they all began to show the effects of whatever they were drinking. Lois Lane smiled as she saw Mac and Jorge begin to falter, after their cups were half-way drunk. Their paddles missed the ball more often, their serves often went wild. Lois and Aimee had drunk barely a third of their beers. Victory was at hand...

...and then they rallied. Or perhaps Lois was drunker than she thought. Her paddle missed too often; Aimee became completely useless, once even knocking a ball into one of their own cups when it would have missed. Even splitting a cup with Aimee, the **** began to tell...and soon, both sides were down to a final cup.

Aimee wobbled, unsteady on her feet. Lois pushed her gently yo the side and took her paddle. With one in each hand, she stood ready for the men to serve...and realized that she was currently seeing four of them, and two balls.

"Why don't we make this more interesting?" Mac said. "Losers are the winner's slaves for the rest of the night!"

"Yer on!" Aimee slurred, from beneath the table. "Gonna...gonna make you...my bitch..."

Her head bumped the table, making the cups jump...but now, the drunken reporter knew she couldn't afford not to win.