Why I Wish I were the Millionaire Son of an Aristocrat - Reason No. 1

1.37 am on a Monday morning according to my office computer clock and I'm still in the office, with the end nowhere in sight. No coffee places open except McDonald's, which serves the most disgusting coffee. I ran out of my last drop of spirits a few hours earlier - about a tea spoon of leftover Nikka Whisky, aged 12 years, that one of my associates left for me to try. The rest of the good stuff is in the associates' offices which are currently locked so I can't even steal in and nick a bit of it. Now I know why Jack Sparrow was so miffed when Elizabeth burned all the rum. And the company has blocked all internet radio, so the only music I have is a CD full of corny old love songs which I inherited.