Arthur stirred in his bed, the curtains thrown open wide by the cold night wind. He pulled the cover over himself, grunting, and all was quiet for a short while. Just as the first meteor zoomed overhead, he sat up straight, rubbing his itchy eyes and yawning.
He got up, yanking a tartan dressing gown over his chequered pajamas, and slowly ambled down the stairs, his eyesight still blurry. He reached the foot of the stairs and felt for the light switch.
It flickered on, and after stumbling over an umbrella stand and falling rather unceremoniously to the floor, he opened the door to the kitchen. By then, dawn had come, and light streamed in through the window.
"Hello?" called somebody, from outside. Arthur tied his dressing gown, and walked over to the door and eased it open.
"Alfred?!" He said, in shock. "What're you doing?"
"It's your birthday, silly!" laughed Alfred, thrusting a present at him.
"Oh." Arthur mumbled bleakly. "I forgot. Do come in. Tea, coffee?"
"Do you have any soda?" Alfred asked.
"It'll make you hyper..." moaned Arthur.
Why do I have to deal with this? I just wanted a quiet cuppa!