By this time, almost everyone in the private room was drunk. Hearing his question, they all appeared startled. After a while, a tipsy Mr. Kentala finally stood up, pointed around the room, and demanded, "Who took Mr. Burton's phone? Hand it over now...."
Mr. Taylor was so drunk he could barely stand. He tried to get up from the sofa only to slump down weakly again. He began to speak with an angry expression, but his words came out unevenly, interspersed with hiccups, "Call... call your manager here for me!"
The woman sitting next to Mr. Taylor giggled tipsily, her words slurred, "Why are you men so angry? The phone... the phone is with me..."
With that, she got up unsteadily, took out the phone from her low-cut neckline, staggered to Steve's side, held it up and waved it at him, "Mr. Burton, are you looking for... for this phone?"
The smell of alcohol was overpowering as the woman opened her mouth, even followed by a loud hiccup.
