“There was a crooked man, who...”
“What are you yammering about, John?”
John laughed. “Nothing, ole chap,” he replied. “Just some ditty from my childhood.” He didn’t mention the fact that Brad was trying his best to stand up straighter.
They weaved down the road a while longer, Brad stumbling here and there. He offered the bottle to John but John figured one of them should be stable enough to get them home so he refused.
Brad fell twice as they started up the hill and John sang, “…walked a crooked mile.”
“Oh, shut up, John!” Brad snapped.