The gang's all here, and no one knows how!
All I can tell you is the events of the missing 48 hours may or may not have altered time, space, geographical boundaries, marital status and bar tabs.
Ok, here's what I know. 48 Hours ago, you came up with an idea for Whiskey Soaked Bacon, correct?
Yes, and I recall it being quite yummy.
Indeed. And I'm reasonably certain there's nothing illegal about that.
There's basically NOTHING illegal about cooking.
Which raises the question, how the hell are we in jail? What exactly did we do?
Well, we were cooking large amounts, which meant we probably had large amounts of whiskey...
And I doubt we used it all for cooking.
Plausible. Likely even, though you'd think we'd be hungover like a wolverine.
I am strangely chipper this morning, though again, memory is still kinda fuzzy.
I get the feeling we're not the only ones involved here. You'd better do a headcount.
This place needs bigger beds.
I have a name you know! I mean, I think I do...crap, what is my name?
Great. I'm in jail and I can't remember my name. This is why I hate you people.
Ugh. The last time this happened, I woke up mummifed in a pyramid somewhere in Giza.
Huh. what the hell is that Mummy doing here? Coulda sworn I hated that guy.
Apparently we got over it?
Not just him, the Neighbor's here too.
I guess whiskey makes friends of us all.
And bacon has a similar effect.