"Greg!" I screamed.
"Yeah. Learned a lesson," he patted the rifle and held it at his side.
"Greg, you killed him!" I wrenched the gun away from him, threw it aside, and pulled his face near mine. "I don't think you understand this. You. Killed. A. Man!"
He giggled. "Your face is near mine. Are we gonna kiss?"
"You son of a..." I dragged him by his shirt away from the scene and into the car. When I buckled him in and got into the driver's seat, I clenched the steering wheel as I spoke. "Now, we're going to go to my house. When we get there, you're going to call your parents - no, I will; you're too drunk - and I'm going to say we're hanging out at the mall today. We're not calling on our cells because it's five in the morning. But until then, you're going to stay in this car and you're going to either sleep off your idiocy or stay quiet, or I will kick you until you're numb. Are we clear?"
He looked like I scared him a bit. "Yeah-huh."
"Good," I pulled out onto the highway and drove home.