Post by TFP on Mar 13, 2008 13:55:43 GMT -4
Lying in bed, it's a day past his birthday. After drinking the night away with Johnny Fame the night earlier, Chris has kind of wasted August fourth and August fifth as a whole. It's an hour to August sixth, but Chris can make a day out of it by doing everything he normally would within that limited hour. With his face buried in his pillow, he hears a several loud knocks on the door of his apartment and the blaring of his alarm clock. Pissed off, Chris gets out of bed and walks to his door, despite the size of his morning erection. He unlocks the door and swings it open, glaring at the people as they stare down at his wang. They look up once they get their focus back and they point their anal-probing fingers at him.
"Turn your alarm clock off!"
"Why?"
"It was going off for two days!"
"So?"
"It's annoying us!"
"Close your doors or mute it out."
"We tried, it doesn't work."
"Ever hear of staying at a relative's place?"
"Oh we wish we could solve a problem like that, but it's not going to happen. Instead we're going to tell you to either turn that piece of plastic crap off or else we're going to be reporting you to the landlord for your excessive disturbances and noise-making."
"Hold it... did you just say that I had a plastic piece of crap?"
"Well that's what it is!"
Chris jumps at the man and takes him to the ground, punching away at his jaw. The people freak out and separate the two, pulling them away from one another. Chris backs away and stands in his doorway, flipping the man off with the bird, so expect more than a complaint against Chris; maybe a public indecency or sexual harrassment charge, as well. Chris slams his door shut and locks it up, walking to his alarm clock and he shuts it off. As soon as that happens, potential assasinators on roof-tops with sniper rifles take apart their weapons and set them in a briefcase and walk off. A little bit tired, Chris looks at the clock and rubs his eyes.
"August fifth... eleven oh-three?"
Chin rub.
"OH PISS!"
Chris slams his forehead on the night-stand corner and slaps himself across the face, extremely pissed off and in shock. I guess that he just realized that he never got to attend to his birthday date with that chick who had the huge tits. But it's Chris' fault for drinking practically nothing, because even the littlest amount of alcohol can get him drunk and make him have a little hangover that'll last a weekend.
"Should I call her?"
Chris thinks.
"Wait, I don't have her number."
He gets up and calls for his cats; Eddie, Jerry and Billy. They run out from their room and jump at him.
"MY BONER!"
He throws them off.
"Seriously, guys... what do I do?"
"Meow."
"Maybe, but should I go back to the bar and make up with her?"
"Meow."
"No, not make out... make up, as in say I'm sorry."
"Meow."
"Thanks, Eddie, go to your room."
"Meow."
"Of course I'm thought of as retarded, so what?"
"Meow."
"Shut up, Billy."
"Purr."
"Excuse me?"
"Purr."
"How about I throw cat-nip out the window and watch you jump after it?"
"Meow."
"Whatever, I'm going to take a shit."
"Turn your alarm clock off!"
"Why?"
"It was going off for two days!"
"So?"
"It's annoying us!"
"Close your doors or mute it out."
"We tried, it doesn't work."
"Ever hear of staying at a relative's place?"
"Oh we wish we could solve a problem like that, but it's not going to happen. Instead we're going to tell you to either turn that piece of plastic crap off or else we're going to be reporting you to the landlord for your excessive disturbances and noise-making."
"Hold it... did you just say that I had a plastic piece of crap?"
"Well that's what it is!"
Chris jumps at the man and takes him to the ground, punching away at his jaw. The people freak out and separate the two, pulling them away from one another. Chris backs away and stands in his doorway, flipping the man off with the bird, so expect more than a complaint against Chris; maybe a public indecency or sexual harrassment charge, as well. Chris slams his door shut and locks it up, walking to his alarm clock and he shuts it off. As soon as that happens, potential assasinators on roof-tops with sniper rifles take apart their weapons and set them in a briefcase and walk off. A little bit tired, Chris looks at the clock and rubs his eyes.
"August fifth... eleven oh-three?"
Chin rub.
"OH PISS!"
Chris slams his forehead on the night-stand corner and slaps himself across the face, extremely pissed off and in shock. I guess that he just realized that he never got to attend to his birthday date with that chick who had the huge tits. But it's Chris' fault for drinking practically nothing, because even the littlest amount of alcohol can get him drunk and make him have a little hangover that'll last a weekend.
"Should I call her?"
Chris thinks.
"Wait, I don't have her number."
He gets up and calls for his cats; Eddie, Jerry and Billy. They run out from their room and jump at him.
"MY BONER!"
He throws them off.
"Seriously, guys... what do I do?"
"Meow."
"Maybe, but should I go back to the bar and make up with her?"
"Meow."
"No, not make out... make up, as in say I'm sorry."
"Meow."
"Thanks, Eddie, go to your room."
"Meow."
"Of course I'm thought of as retarded, so what?"
"Meow."
"Shut up, Billy."
"Purr."
"Excuse me?"
"Purr."
"How about I throw cat-nip out the window and watch you jump after it?"
"Meow."
"Whatever, I'm going to take a shit."