Outskirts Press, INC.

Upside Down (One on the House) is not a standard story of alcoholism and recovery, but the harrowing tale of one man's quest to regain his sanity and soul--and eventually his life. In his personal memoir, author William Teets recounts his uncontrollable and unyielding sojourns into surreal worlds of Mad Hatters, rye swilling, untruth telling gnomes, demons, hellhounds, and literary and religious notables. Teets sweeps away readers on a horrific and terrifying journey through his mind as he battles encephalopathy and near death. Through his trials and tribulations, the author is forced to revisit his past and the fractured reflections of who he has become. See-sawing endlessly between worlds of fantasy, reality, madness, and reason, the author searches for sanctuary and redemption...and hope. After enduring endless crucibles and re-examining himself, the universe, and all that is, he finally finds salvation and healing in the most unlikely of places. A place that has always existed within him, but needed to be rediscovered. Upside Down (One on the House) is a terrifying, humorous, sad, and joyful tale of one man's journey home and ultimately to himself.

I heard far away voices. Doctor voices, nurse voices, strange voices. They exploded in the ether and blackened the sky, becoming crazy crows cawing accusations and denouncements to me. Repent sinner, this time you have defiled too many sacred creeds. You have gone too far. You stand accused! You are exposed! The giant crow wings flapped an interminable beating and deafening storm in my mind. As they flapped their wings and cawed, they squawked; You have cirrhosis, no electrolytes, we need to replenish, no platelets, must replenish, en-cep-pha-lop-a-thy, five percent, toxins, drowning, fix the IV, untangle the tubes, damage, death, liquor, die, death, die. Suddenly the giant crows began falling from the ether, crashing to the tiled floor and exploding. The devil’s own knick-knack glass figurines scattering shattered shards, like hot shrapnel, tearing my brain and scarring my soul. Was I dying? The caws became voices again, loud thunderous clap voices. I heard scalpels and metal clamps and medical instruments for my salvation, being dropped to the tiled floor by Bantu warrior, witchdoctors. A calamity was taking place! What was happening? Who would save my life now? Surely not these bungling quacks. Surely not me. Out of nowhere, so many double shots of alcohol, drank from so many dirty glasses, in so many lost barrooms, became a rising tidal wave of despair and forfeited victories. A tsunami of biblical proportions. Fuck, I was going to die.