Burn, Baby, Burn by Michael Seale (Chapters 8 and 9)
Chapter 8 Oil slick Bill eyed Mike as he walked through the back door and into the darkened hallway, but said nothing. Mike supposed Bill’s flaming hypocrisy about drug abuse finally got the better of him. Mike’s test results weren’t back yet, but he thought to hell with sitting on his ass another day. Mike needed to get paid, laid and drunk, not necessarily in that order. Bill was drunk early during then night’s dinner service, well earlier than normal, Mike thought. He was deep into hie eighth gin gimlet by the time service was ending. Tom hovered over him the last hour not only to make sure he cooked everything properly but that he didn’t fall over either. He stumbled around his station, knocking over the salt and several broiler pans, they spilled across the floor. “Shit. Fuck,” he shouted. “Bill, not so loud.” Tom reprimanded. “Oh, fuck off.” he slurred. Tom knew better than to respond, they all did. When Bill was angry-drunk, it was best just to get out of the way