"Just a few quiets," said a few of the boys, but Crudes was having none of that. Not tonight, not with it being their last chance to sink some brews before the long flight to South America. He needed to set the tone.
"Shots!"
***
"HOLA AMIGO!" he slurred across the bar. "Donde esta Argentina?"
The barman was confused. There was a red-eyed rugby player standing before him speaking Spanish. He searched his memory for the only words he knew, tilting his head quizzically and responding, "Que?"
Now it was Cruden's turn to look confused. K. What did that mean? K. As in Kieran? Where was Reado, anyway?
He spun around. That didn't feel good. Mental note to self: keep to a minimum sudden movements. He scanned the room. Was that Reado cowering in the corner of the bar? No, just four kegs stacked on top of one another.
Reado had to be around here somewhere. And where were the rest of the boys? How could he hope to spot an All Black in such a dark bar? He needed some light - and also some food now he thought about it.
If only there were a McDonald's across the road. It was just a game against Argentina next week, so he could allow himself a quarter-pounder or three. Wait a minute. There was a McDonald's across the road! And that's where Reado and the boys were going!
Cruden shuffled outside as fast as he could while holding a jug. But there was no McDonald's, nothing but more dimly lit bars. That was worrying.
"Is this the Sonkeeper's Zoo?" he demanded of a group of young men standing outside the establishment.
"Nah, mate. You're in Ponsonby."
***
PONSONBY. Bad news. Cruden needed to think and a drink to clear his head. He stumbled inside and put the jug on the bar, ordering a Heineken. He never really liked the taste of Steinlager. Perhaps he should suggest a change of sponsor, after all, he was Aaron Cruden. He'd check with Shag tomorrow.
Maybe he should ring Shag now? He pulled out his phone. It was bright, so very bright, and none of the letters seemed to form words. That was a troubling development. How could he fill out his departure card in the morning if he couldn't read it?
Hmmm. The morning. That was soon. He should probably head home. But where was home? Hamilton? Where were all the taxis?
He sculled his beer and stepped out of the bar. Just then, a car pulled up and he heard a familiar refrain: "TURBOOOS."
He liked these guys. They recognised him and, what's more, they had the mighty Manawatu's win on MySky. "Can I crash on your couch?"
***
THE FIRST thing Cruden noticed was his mouth. Dry didn't adequately describe it. He needed a Gatorade - uh, no, a Powerade. But where was he? He looked at the bodies strewn around him and there wasn't an All Black in sight. No Liam, no Dolph, no Reado. Oh dear.
Wait, what time was it? And what time was the flight to Argentina?! He panicked, snatching at his phone on the floor. Seven missed calls, all from Shag, and one shimmering text message.
"See you when we get back ;) - Beaudy."
