Left or Right?: A Poisoned Glass

His knees buckled and his eyes slowly drained to white as the flowing sensation cycled through his body over and over again. Everyone in the bar turned to see the man that had fallen to the floor. Why had he chosen the left glass? It had been so clearly the right. The bar-boy had told him so. Why couldn't he listen for once in his life? My brother was never the very sharpest knife in the drawer, and I guess these games never were fair. He will be missed. Oh well, I guess I get to live another day.