As Blaine made his way home, the dogs of whoever lived in the house joint with his ran along side him from inside the fence. It was an old Labrador and a spritely chihuahua, who yipped territorially at the new comer. Ignoring the clamor, he hurried up his porch. His toe clinked against something hard when he approached the door. A glass bottle full of milk. Strange; do they still deliver milk in this century? He thought to himself. Accepting the only thing he has to put in his fridge, he retrieved his key from his bag. After working his first day at the library, Blaine was ready to be alone.

"Hideyho, neighbor!" Sam called out to Blaine, waving from the house next door, while Blaine fumbled to unlock his door. Blaine offered a small wave. So much for being alone. "Hey, what do you say we go down to the Public House?"

"The what?" Blaine called back across the lawn.

"The local pub. We can grab a couple of drinks, catch the game. Guy stuff." Basically the last thing he wanted to do.

"Oh...thats—maybe tomorrow. Its been a long day at work."

"Dude, thats a great reason to get a beer!"

"Yeah, but then I have to be up early again tomorrow."

"Dont we all?" He chuckled. Blaine weaned briefly. "Ah, come on. Whatre you gonna do? Go inside, watch the game and have a beer all alone? Youre never gonna make friends that way."

"I dont need to make friends." Blaine grumbled.

"Yes you do." Sam demanded. He hurried up to the railing of his porch, considering hopping over it. But, he stopped short, figuring it would be too embarrassing if he flipped over it and fell on his face. So, he took the stairs, walking around and up to Blaine. "And Im going to help you. Right now."

"But..." Blaine struggled to throw out excuses such as I dont drink or I need to feed my dog. But, Sam always silenced him with a passive hm or uhuh, sure. "Can I put my milk away first?" Blaine whined, finally relenting.

Sam sighed histrionically, "fine." To Blaines surprise, Sam actually followed him into his house. Blaine greeted the puppy who excitedly wiggled over to the guys, pretending not to notice the fact that he had pooped everywhere. "Wow..." Sam contemplated. "So, are you like one of those minimalists?" He asked, purposefully stepping over a heap of dog poop.

Blaine glanced around the room for an answer. Unfortunately, the room held nothing. Absolutely nothing, except a fridge and a stove and an oven. Apparently EasonVille homes dont come furnished. Or any homes for that matter. Not a bed, nor a TV. Not even a microwave. Although, come to think of it, that might be some weird, anti-microwave hippie thing the town has going on. Blaine poised himself, still a little disgruntled from the fact that Sam was seeing his house for the first time unfurnished and covered in shit. He clutched his milk to his chest. "Im trying something new."

Blaine nodded slightly, more to convince himself that he was a terrific liar, so Sam nodded with him. "Its not working."

"Right." They remained nodding together for a moment, before Blaine sheepishly held up his milk. He excused himself from their nod track to place it in his barren fridge. Then he poured some dog food, the only thing close to nutrients he thought to pack, onto the floor in a small pile. "Shall we?"

The Public House was crowded with guys from barely legal to barely breathing. They all stared  at Blaine with varying degrees of confusion and disgust, with the exception of Finn who grinned having remembered Blaine from the other day. Everyone, Blaine noted, was slowly nursing one drink the entire evening, only some a little buzzed.

"Hey," Blaine began, inspecting the label on his beer. Sues Ruse. It was the same drink everyone drank, because it was the only alcohol served in EasonVille. "Do they deliver milk to everyones doorstep everyday?" Sam nodded, taking a polite sip of his drink. Everyone was so gentle with their Ruse. Blaine took a large swig of his. "But, suppose I dont get my milk in time and it curdles."

"Why wouldnt you get your milk? You just pick it up on your way out every morning."

"But," Blaine took another drink. "What if Im out of town or something?"

"Why would anyone leave Eason?"

"Humor me, Sam. Say you left and your milk sits out and it goes bad. Then what?"

"Well, ideally, your neighbors would pick it up and keep it cool until you came back, so it wouldnt spoil." He sips his drink. "But, if that didnt happen, then yes, your milk would curdle and youd have to throw it out and wait for the next mornings milk. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Blaine nodded, satisfied in finding a kink in the towns system. Everything seemed so flawless. He just needed one flaw, the potential waste of milk, to feel less like an outcast living among robots. "Was it moo-sic to your ears?"

"Indeed, it was very moo-ving." The boys laughed, their drinks having gone to their heads a little.

"You are so amoo-sing." Sam stated around his fits of laughter.

"I do play well with udders."

Sam cracked up at that. "I dont know if that was an innuendo or not, but dude you totally just raised the stakes." Their laughter earned them some upset glances from the guys trying to watch the game. Finn shushed them. "Oh my god, stakes like the food because cows make stakes." Sam whispered breathlessly, sending them back into laughter.

Once the cow puns got too stupid, they convinced themselves doing shots of Sues Ruse was a great idea. While Sam only had two for the whole night, Blaine downed at least a handful, figuring he could hold his liquor well. However, third shot in, he wasnt seeing straight. On his fourth, Sam clapped him on the back, clearly impressed. The fifth one was where everything got weird; Sam had a twin, the pool sticks were now snakes and Finn was triple his original size.

Focusing on one of the Sams, Blaine tried to grab at the words he wanted to say. But the whole alphabet was floating around him in a hot soup that made everything just as scalding. Both Sams, with their four tentacle arms, grabbed his hands and lowered them. "Go home and lie down. Drink a lot of water." He instructed. Everyone watched him as he left. Amused and knowing smirks were drawn on their puppet faces.

Blaine tried to do as told, but all of the houses looked like empty little cookie cutters in the shapes of homes. He wandered in a circle for a bit, until he saw a sign. Elm Street. Yes, thats me, he remembered with a giggle. It was hard for him to walk, but he got there after a little bit of staggering around like a drunk pirate. Even during college, Blaine was never this drunk. Ever. He miraculously found his way up the daunting stairs of the porch, placing his key in the lock. Then it got stuck. He pulled it. Then he pulled it harder, falling backwards onto his butt and sending the soup sloshing over the edge of the bowl. Admitting defeat, Blaine stayed down to pout up at the mean door. He was so drunk that he had to hold onto the floor. Until it opened.

"Can I help you?" Kurt stood above him in the doorway.

A tint of pink flooded Blaines cheeks. "I live here."

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, his hip jutted out. "2100 Elm street?"

"No, this is ELM street." His own shouting made his ears pound.

"Please, theres no need to shout." Clearly, Kurt didnt know the difference between to the two streets that Sam has taught Blaine. Which is sad because hes lived here all his life.

"But, I shout because its Elm with the big letters." Blaine slurred, trying to stumble to his feet. Kurt held him steady.

A grin was drawn across Kurts pink lips. "You must be taking directions from Sam. You can call it Capital Elm street."

"Oh." Blaine grinned at him. "Can I come into my house now? I dont feel very good." Then he threw up. All over Kurt.