Once upon a time (About 2-3 years ago - give or take a year),

A man (who we'll call NDN) spent the night going from bar to bar with some buddies.

At the final bar, he bought shot after shot for anyone who would take them until he could no longer remember anything.

The last memory NDN had was of trying to pick a fight with someone on that persons 21st birthday (NDN was later told he bought the man many shots so he doesn't feel as bad).

The next morning, NDN awoke and when he tried to stand up he fell right back down. He felt the most pain he'd ever felt in his entire life. He was puzzled. The need for a smoke was too much to resist so he basically crawled outside to satisfy the crave (he has since been smoke free for 2-years).

Thinking nothing major was wrong with his ankles, he moved around as best he could for two days. When the pain didn't subside, he finally decided to go to the doctor. He was amazed to hear that not one, but BOTH of his ankles were broken.

He spoke with his buddies about the night before, and no one had an explanation as to what happened. According to them, they had to drag NDN in to his house and to the bed. We later determined that NDN ran around the outside of the bar at least once, and it's assumed that he tripped or fell off the curb resulting in two broken ankles.

As fate would have it, one of NDN's buddies broke his ankle the very next day. Luckily it was his left ankle and he could still drive, because NDN and his buddy spent their recovery time on many different bar stools.

Thus ends the story of a wild night in NDN land.