After loosing his fiver and the rest of the chaps show up, Taylor gives up on pool and sticks to drinking and story telling. Mostly about back when he was in the academy and how things are now. He stays away from details on what he does for a living now, labling it as "matrix and security consulting." Between his clothing being so much stranger than his career choices, and Ralphy's emphatic support, there's plenty else to gab about over drinks. Continuing to get shitty until the hall closes down, they all stumble down to the Tube. Taylor and Ralphy catch a train back to their neighborhood being rather roudy on the ride back. Singing horribly out of key and time random pub songs while hanging on to eachother in an absurd attempt to stay upright. They miraculously get off at the right station and stumble down the street. Getting back to the house, Taylor tries to sneak in and not wake up Judy. It's comical to watch his exagerated drunken attempts at silence that result in enough of a cacophony to wake the dead. His only saving grace is the meds his mum is on keep her blissfully unaware of her son's disgraceful state. He manages to get a couple of pints of water and an asprin down before passing out in his office.
...
Taylor wakes painfully to the sun creeping between the smog and the blinds in his office to shine painfully on his horribly hungover face. He pulls himself painfully out of his chair and lurches to his room to shed his clothes and get them into the cleaning unit. Counting his blessings as he's got warm water to take a shower in an attempt to re-hydrate via osmosis he spends long enough in there that his mum actually messages him asking if he's alright, and when is breakfast going to be ready?
Extricating himself from the blessed steam of the washroom, he towels off and puts some clothes on, almost falling down the stairs.
"Sorry mum, Ralphy needed some help with some drinks last night. Seems like we may have gone a bit over board with the lads. I'll get the processer to make us some food in a moment." The reproachful look in his mother's eyes does nothing to improve his hangover, and she recognizes that he's paying his dues enough as it is. She relents, and actually goes about sorting breakfast for them. Fake-eggs and soy-sausage with a nice cuppa tea. She sets these as quietly as she can while juggling the walker and the food. Taylor feels horribly that his frail mother is having to take care of him. "I swear, I'm never drinking again!" And Judy lets out a belly laugh at that, which causes Taylor to wince at the noise. She says, "If I had a Nuyen for every time your father said that, we'd be livin' atop the arcology instead of out here in the burbs sweetie. Finish up breakfast and then head back up and get some rest."
Taylor looks through bloodshot eyes up at her, "Thanks mum, but I've actually gotta head into the city for some work today. Won't be home until late tonight. Chose the wrong night to get knackered. Time to pay the piper." He sighs resignedly.
After breakfast he ducks into his office and starts trying to get some work done. He pulls up all of the information he can find on "Deliberators' Delight" and the Wesminster Arms. Looks to see if he can hack some feeds off of any of the surveillance equipment around. Mam's figures it's long odds, but the deli may have some low-grade cameras or something near by to get a view. Thinking on the task, he figures the best thing to do will be to have a sprite put a cookie on the target so he can track him and then make the intercept at the correct time. Planning will be key for the day. "Damn, shouldn't have let that data sprite from yesterday go to waste... I'm in no shape to be doing this." Winston and Victoria seem to be snickering amongst themselves at Mams' discomfort.
