Post-Miller Time (1999)
You crack your dry eyes open, and taste the foul hint of stale beer and pizza pieces lying inside your mouth. You swallow and lift your head with the feel of sweat inside your stiff clothing. The first pang of your headache rings as you're fully upright, and your stomach echoes the pain with a rickety churn. The other guys are still quietly resting through the aftermath of two cases, with aluminum remnants strewn throughout the room paired wih empty pizza boxes. That sunlilght is way too bright.

It's Post-Miller Time!