8. turned green, put her hand over her mouth to hold back her rising gorge...
and turned her head to one side to let fly with a high-pressure jet of slightly used alcohol and half-digested chunks of her dinner, that splashed on the wall like a Jackson Pollock painting in brown, yellow and bile-green.
to this day over quiet campfires they recall in hushed, reverent tones the night of the horrible chain reaction puke fest that went around the room like some wet, putrid nightmare tsunami of disgust in the wake of becky's original fetid spewage.
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