Ok, this is quickly turning into Midnight's drunken tales thread, but while we're on the subject i may as well tell this one.
My Last Night
Last summer I went to Tenerife with 3 of my mates and we had the most amazing time. Ever seen Tenerife Uncovered? Well we went there, and it was fucking awesome, great clubs, booze by the plently, loose women and very, very strong ecstacy.
Those two weeks were madness from start to finish, constantly fucked and getting into all sorts of shit, my first night i was woken up face down outside a club by some complete strangers, then had to taxi run home, only we didnt know the area so we got dropped nowhere near where we were staying and it still took us about 45 minutes to get home, but that's a whole other story.
So it got to my last night (me and my mate were leaving two days before the other two) and i've got a fair bit of money left so i think right, go out with a bang.
I get slaughtered, really piss drunk before we even leave, drinking absinthe with my mate and pints at dinner, by the time we left the first bar (we always started i the same place coz it was two pints and 4 free shots for the equivalent of about £3.60) i was shitfaced. I went and got three pills (ecstacy) from our regular dealer. His face always lit up when we saw him for some reason

I had completely fucked my foot on about the 5th night, so by the end i was taking E's like painkillers. I was hobbling around all day, then getting pilled up and raving all night) I toke one in the the second bar, then took the other two and raved my bollocks off in the hardcore club for hours.
I am in the worst state i think i have ever been in, the pills have got to me hard, i snorted another half a pill then went back to the club. I had no water and no money left to buy some, i even had to drink the shitty tenerife water to keep myself hydrated. I have a picture of me that night, i look fucked beyond belief.
It got to the end of the night and all the clubs shut, and we only knew of one club still open. My mates wern't up for it, but i was, so i rallied blagged someone who we met out there and we were off. On the way i stopped in a shop, picked up a bottle of strawberry schnapps (always our last resort, it's great coz it taste like fruit juice but you can chug a whole bottle (1 litre) pretty quickly, get ratted, then get back to the clubs) winked at the security camera and put in down my jeans, then got the fuck out of there.
So we get to the club, having downed the bottle between us on the way, it's shut. Fuck.
We wander about a bit, then i seem some trampolines on the beach. I think that looks like fun, so i jump the fence and get in. I backflip, got all the way round and land on my back, dangerously close to my neck. This does not deter me. I am invincible. Or so it would seem.
I did a front flip, went all the way round and landed
thumb first. I look at my thumb and it's not pretty. Clearly dislocated, all bent up, pushed in and dodgy looking. It doesn't hurt too much at the time, but it looked fucked up and would have hurt if i wasn't so hammered. So i'm wandering down the street, totally screwing about my deformed hand and we bump into the old people (i say old, maybe 50, pretty old but not decomposing yet) I show them my thumb, they wince. I ask what the fuck they think i should do, and this guy says to me;
''Well, you can either go down the road and pay 200 euros for them pull it back into shape, or i can do it for you now for free.''
The decision was easy. I gingerly extended my hand to him, he grabs my thumb and ripped it back into place. It hurt. I was what i can only describe as a split second of the worst pain i have ever felt. But then it was fine. I looked at it, and it look normal again, ached like a bastard but it was bearable pain, so long as i didnt move it. I shake the guys hand (with my other hand) and we leave. Me and my new found buddy realise we don't have any money, and were staying in opposite directions. It's 7am. We get in seperate taxis and go my seperate ways. I say the only hotel i can think of that is not my own and he drives. We pull up and i get out and run. I'm on a comedown, fucked up foot, dislocated thumb and now i have to taxi run. Karma's a bitch.
So i run down some stairs, look up and see i'm running into a dead end. I go to turn round, but the taxi driver bodychecks me down the rest of the stairs. He gets on top of me and i get slapped about a bit. My thumb is killing and i can't even make a fist. I accept that this is a battle i have lost. He keeps screaming ''Policia, Policia!'' and i'm thinking I don't really want to miss my flight home becuase i'm stuck in a Spainish prison. I offer to get him some money, so he drives me back to my hotel. I go to my room and bang the fucking door down trying to get my mate out of bed to borrow some money. Eventually he comes to the door, pays the taxi driver, who leaves. I sit down, drink more absinthe and tell him this story.