hooly night, creepy night

So, here I am,
playing a board game with a few friends

Its a little bizarre to be playing a game, meant for 12 years old and up, with other grown-ups. but, on the other hand, its freakin' awesome !!

Anyway, we're at this dude's hangout. an old almost abandoned, family house.
The humidity stench in the air is almost unbearable.
We're sitting at ground level in what used to be a shop.
The front windows are boarded up.
Apparently there must be a rat somewhere because there are bite marks on garbage bags, and because we keep hearing noises in the back room.

Whatever.
We're on playing mode
The dices keep rolling.

Its somewhere between 3 to 4 am.

BAM!

BAM! BAM!

a loud knocking at the door.

my friend gets up, goes to the door.

then, an obnoxious, high-pitched voice starts blaring.
-"mhaaa, hellooo, mblaaahhh!"

That voice belongs to "Mr. Marvel".

Mr. Marvel is a common friend to all of us.
A childhood friend.
I am not going to say that he took a different path in life than the rest of the people at the table. Let's say he took a more extreme one.

-"snrrrflll". He snorts, loudly

-"srrnhfhhlll". He snorts, even louder.

His eyes are half closed. Not because he's tired.
He has a smile from ear to ear. he looks happy as a kite. He's flying. Litterally.

-"Anybwone god a krrleenex? My dnose just exbrloded (it was bleeding relentlessly). I can't gooo, hoo-oome li-hike dis!"

aaah, welcome to the idiosincratic routine of a cokehead