“I am in a story. Hurrah, I am in a story, Nibs.” [Complete]

[sga1sheppard]

Location: Everywhere! All over Aternaville! But starts out in John's bathroom. Nekkid. *grins*
Time: I suppose it begins on Thursday, the 4th of January, the 5th being John's 40th. The scene below takes place first thing in the morning, about 8am (so I don't know why Rodney's so chipper), and then the thread will move from there
Characters:

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[baker19]

Peter woke up sometime after the sun had staged its morning attack to the feeling that something small but very strong was bouncing around inside his skull with a set of jack-hammers and a nasty expression on its face. He groaned, rolled, and then rolled back off of the empty bottle of rum that had been keeping him company in bed. He didn't actually remember the rum, though he was mostly sure that he was the one who'd gone and gotten it, unless fairies had taken to delivering booze instead of making off with teeth.

He stumbled through his morning routine without ever opening his eyes and only came up short, literally, when he tried to take his morning piss. The activity was made exponentially more difficult because the toilet was at roughly waist level and it hadn't been there for years.

"The hell?" He stumbled back, managed not to throw up at the sense of vertigo this caused, and made his way out of the bathroom and into his suitcase. Bad hangovers required lots and lots of ibuprofen and water and maybe it would be a good idea to get dressed now that he was semi-conscious except when the heck had he shrunk because all of his clothes were oh. Never mind.

He pulled on a teeshirt and pair of jeans and then absailed his way back to the bathroom and water and blessed medicinal relief. When that didn't work he scrubbed at his face, shoved his bare feet into his sneakers, and made for the door. Obviously this called for coffee. Lots and lots of hot black coffee and then he would feel better and the world would return to its proper proportions.