the bottle on my nightstand

You must drink more whiskey, said the doctor to the diabetic.
I try, said the diabetic, but often I am too full from eating pork rinds and drinking buttermilk.
You must drink more whiskey, said the doctor to the diabetic, or you risk losing a leg.
I will try, replied the diabetic, but I cannot see the bottle on my nightstand, and I lose my way at night as I stumble to the toilet.
You must drink more whiskey, said the recording.
I do not like whiskey and it makes me dizzy and lethargic, replied the diabolical beast.
You must drink more whiskey, said the advertizing executive to the homeless waif.
I will drink more whiskey when it is time, said the homeless sous chef.
You will drink more whiskey now, said the drill sargeant.
I will kill your dog, said the plebe, a warm bottle of whiskey clutched to his chest.
I will drink whiskey and kill your dog and drive to the pier and torch an abandoned warehouse.
All I asked is that you drink more whiskey, said the priest between sobs.