by Phil Brucato How much can one man drink? Sean McCulloch is trying to find out. You've heard of devils sitting on your shoulder? Well, in Sean's case, it's true. Feels that way, anyhow. At night, the little bastards come out to play, dancing inside his skull until he feels like crying. Men don't cry, of course, but if they did, Sean McCulloch would have good reason to. And so he drinks. Drinks a lot. Drinks a hell of a lot, truth be told. And he wishes the dreams would go away. It's no way for a man to live. Oh, no. Best to summon up the cause and dash the little bastard's brains out. The Brat?