Photoshopped Photobomb

Matt's head pounded, and the godawful designer coffee wasn't doing a thing to help. He'd been better off at the barracks drinking the dregs of the previous night's brew. Nothing cured a hangover better than crappy coffee left to thicken overnight on a low burner, especially when that coffee was the cheap-ass government grounds that someone obviously scraped out of a mud puddle somewhere. Just the thought of it stirred the nausea Matt had been fighting all morning.

Another night like last night, he'd be well on the way to recovering from his Stella disappointment. At least he knew now it wasn't him. He never had a chance in the first place. That he had been a fool to push his game so far was still a huge embarrassment though.