Sentence The Fivehundredandthirtyeighth

Gertie Mountcastle and Palestrina MacFarlane were drunk! they had spent a roistering evening in the KitKat Klub and had been drinking steadily, Martini after Martini, far more than either of them was used to and now they were definitely drunk; def-in-ately Drunk! Gertie tried to stand but her legs
were not under the control of her brain because her brain was Drunk! this was not like her; not like her at all; brought up in a Wee Free Manse, she had never tasted alcohol until she joined Police Scotland as a Trainee WPC and even then it had only been occasional, probably a biannual event, like her birthday or Hogmanay- where was her mentor Isa Urquhart? where was Sergeant Goldy Brevity? where the fuck was She? she looked around – she was in the Ladies, the Frauleines, the sodding Loos! oh For Fuck Sake, No! she was in the Gents, the Herren – there was a pissoir, or whatever they called it here, a long stainless steel panel with a kind of trough at the base; oh soddit! she hoped her realisation could be confuted, that this was what the women's loos in Berlin nightclubs were all like; Palestrina must have gone through the other door, and when Gertie had entered she had dashed into an empty cubicle and sat down as quickly as she could get her knockers off, emptying her bladder like a waterfall! now her knees buckled but she caught hold of a door handle, a door on the wall to her right; was this the door back to the Klub? she tried the handle, but though it moved, the door didn't open; she bent down, her head against the cold wood, she peered at the lock, easie peasie – Gertie fished in her handbag and her hand came out with a long implement, with a hook at the end, a bit like the things Dentists used to probe at your teeth; oh, god, she was quite definitely, def-in-ately, drunk as a skunk, but she inserted the pick in the lock and twisted, putting her all into the task, and the door opened suddenly and she was face to face with a moon-faced man who looked just as
surprised as she was; because she was drunk, she was slow to react, and the man, who wasn't drunk, was the first to speak: "who are you?" he asked, and looking beyond her: "where is this?" which she thought was a silly question, but, feeling slightly embarrassed at being in the Herren toilets, she said: "Kit Kat Klub," and the man turned and called over his shoulder: "the door is open," and behind him she saw other people, five or six, appear in a dimly lit corridor: "Christ!" she said, thinking, Fucking
Zombies! and during the moon-faced man's dilatory hesitation, Gertie slammed the door shut, amazingly quickly she managed to re-lock it with the pick and then, grabbing her bag from the floor, tottered out and almost fell into the arms of a man in a black SS uniform!