Intoxicate

"I really can't help but drink" Adam whined into his glass as his friends once again slid him another cup of their special Moonshine.
"it's really hard when you're trying to get over comething not to try andintoxicate your cares into oblivion."
He downed the glass once again and tapped the cup on the bar.
"let';s get another one over here, i'm still alive."
He said slurring his words, before his eyes fluttered and he fell face first into the bar, then slid onto the floor with a sickening thump. his buddies laughed and nudged him with their feet before sighing and lifting his limp form into the safety of a nearby booth.
"Let's draw on him."
"What are we, five?"
"Come on, it'll be awesome!"
So, they got a few markers used to put up the signs on the bar's whiteboard and plied their artistic experience to draw all over the poor unconscious Adam.

Adam came to with a huge head of pain and a feeling in his gut that told him that the toilet was about to get fed like a baby bird. he ran into the bathroom and hwarked up the last bit of his last night's party.
A few hours later he was back down on his sofa, head adorned with a nice flowery towel full of ice. he'd not looked in the mirror so he was unaware of the amazing work of art that covered his face and neck.
A knock on his door woke him up just as the sun was going down, and he groggily got up to answer it. he winced as the last bit of sunlight burned into his retinas when the door opened and he could barely make out a figure in front of him.
"yeah?"
"Um..Mister...Taconti? "
the female voice sounded quite confused, and if he could see straight he would see a lovely young woman. She eyed the strange markings on his head and had to smile.
"I obviously have the right place. Here."
She held out a large envelope, much heavier than it should have been, and left. leaving Adam to squint, trying to get a good look at her. the only thing he could really make out was the way her hips moved, and a strange sort of part in her skirt. He shrugged and went inside.

He dropped the envelope on the kitchen table and poured himself a nice, non-alcoholic drink, foregoing any food for fear of his stomach's unending wrath once again visiting him. he downed the nice glass of lemonade and eyed the manilla intruder to his otherwise happy kitchen.
He grabbed it and tore thorough the paper as if it were...slightly weaker paper.
Inside was a small chalice, made of gold with gemstone inlay. Its weight made him pretty sure that it truly was gold, but who sent it? he checked the envelope for a return address.
There was no writing on it, not even his address, name, nothing. he turned it over and even checked the part he'd ripped off, but there was simply no indication from where it had come or who it came from. He sat the cup down and looked at it curiously.