Reuben Williams

And everyone's kind of having a good time.

Everyone's dancing.

Drinks are flowing and whatnot.

But there was this one particular guy leading the charge.

And he's carrying around trays of fireball shots, trays of this, that, whatever he was handing it out.

And this wasn't like particularly, um, out of character for this bloke, but he was celebrating particularly hard because it was his last day at the organization.

He was the outgoing head of communications who had just accepted a new job at the international cricket council over in Dubai to be the head of communications over there.

So like, if it wasn't already at the pinnacle of his career, like he was about to step into it.

And, um,

And on paper, like, this guy's, like, incredibly impressive, like, former employee of the year.

When Sandpaper Gap happened, he's one of the first people on the ground to handle, like, the media scuffle that's going on over there.

And he says to everyone as the night gets quite late, who wants to kick on back to mine?

So at about 2 a.m., we make our way across town over to his apartment in Abbotsford, near Vic Gardens, and we go up to his apartment.

I walk into that apartment and I sit down on the couch, pretty cooked at this point.

And I look around and there's about eight or nine other people in the room and it's sort of general sort of, you know, kick on activity.

But I look over to the kitchen and he's there mixing up some drinks.

And he comes over to me and he hands me one of the drinks and I accept it and I drink it.

And that's the last thing I can remember from that night.

The next thing that registers in my brain is the feeling of someone masturbating my penis.

And at first I thought, this is a dream.