Today's OneWord: Bucket
At Billy's feet was a bucket that waited for any standard level of spew to reach its rim. He was sitting upright in his bed now, head lowered so far that his chin nearly touched his chest. To his left, his brothers were sleeping soundly, the ale not seeming to have affected them nearly as drastically. "I need to brew myself something to help my head," Billy thought to himself, as he tried with an enormous effort to stand up and walk properly.