"Hey, my clothes aren't shit! They're fucking classy and---"

Bjorn was so drunk he couldn't really string a sentence together as he swayed and then burst out laughing trying to pull his tight heeled boots from his feet. Fuck, they were hard to get off drunk! Rekker was impatient and the Swede was totally smashed. He was now pulling at Bjorn's boots trying to get them off. Always a good start.

"Get your shit off too then, you grumpy ginger fuck."

The Swede sticking his tongue out and then felt himself pitch forwards onto the floor of the car as he was now wrestling with the ties on his pleather pants. They were tightly moulded to his thighs like a second skin.