Zach was mixing the jungle juice.

“Don’t look at it,” Paul explained as Zach upended a handle of vodka into the pot.  “If you don’t look at it, then it is okay, it can’t get you drunk!”

Once he drained it, Zach dropped the glass bottle in the trash and began stirring his concoction of hard liquor and juice.  They were in Bill’s place for the team party.  Mandatory fun in Deckard’s eyes, but the alcohol would be flowing and would help him get a bead on the other guys.  He stood off to the side drinking the local brew, Phoenix beer.

Bill had to take a call outside.  Of course Deckard wanted to eavesdrop, but he had to play it cool.  Rick showed up with a fresh batch of hair gel in to keep his hair slicked back.  Ramon walked in a few minutes later.  No sign of Nadeesha.

“Drink this, Deckard,” Zach said handing him a mug of the jungle juice.  He was about six-foot-two with sandy blonde hair.  Deckard took the drink.

“Thanks dude.”

Zach could have been a stand-in for a kid in an Abercrombie ad or the Hitler Youth.  Paul had been right, he realized as he took a sip.  If you didn’t know there was alcohol in the drink, you’d never know what it was.

“Nice shirt,” Zach commented.  “Fucking Henderson was all into that Malibu Barbie shit.”