It was my 23rd birthday and where was I? Sitting in a nightclub with some hot chicks? No. Drinking a beer at the bar with bad self? No. I was sitting in the door way of my friends bathroom watching him empty the fucking contents of his stomach into the toilette.
"Hey fuckass, go get some water." I said. I didn't know the first thing about caring for sick-ass people. He looked up at me with a grin plastered to his face before wretching into the toilette again.
"Bet you won't do that again dick-munch. Fuckin stupidest dare ever. How fuckin old are you?" I threw a towel onto the floor next to him. He grabbed it tightly and wiped off his face.
"You remember it's my birthday right? My fuckin birthday. And I'm here taking care of your sorry ass." I folded my arms across my chest. It never really mattered what I said to him. He never got angry. He drew a deep shuddering breath before standing shakily and walking to the sink.
"I knew your fuckass braincells were fried, but this shit is just plain fuckin suicidal." This was me attempting to be sentimental and caring.i had a very good feeling that it wasn't working. Fuck caring. It's too hard to fake. As I watched him, he slowly grabbed his toothbrush from the counter and squeezed a mound of toothpaste before shoving it into his mouth and scrubbing violently. I just sat there and fumed at him silently.
"Hey, just as long as you stop doing shit like this, I'll leave you alone ok. Fuckin drinking bleach." I mumbled that last bit to myself. I still couldn't fathom the reason why this fucktard did most of the things he did. Maybe it was a sick game of russian roulette with his life on the line, or maybe he really was just plain old fuckin stupid.
"Karkat? If you hate me so much, then why don't you just leave? Why do you always answer my calls?" he hung his head low over the sink. The weight of his words hit me like a tidal wave. They made me think about the answers to that question. They made me angry because the right answer was so simple. I scoffed.
"Take a fuckin shower and I'll go order some pizza." I walked away before he could question me. We'd been living in the human world for a while now. Apparently we were a "genetic screw-up in evolution". At least that's what the news reporter called us on the television. I was still grumpy over all the rules there were in their society. I picked up the phone and called the nearest pizza joint. I ordered my favorite toppings and begrudgingly asked if the had any Faygo… of which I ordered three bottles. As I hung up the phone I thought to myself, "well there's my good deed for this century." I heard the water running in the bathroom and settled myself in front of the large t.v. It was a monster by anyone's standards. I looked around for the remote, but ended up having to dig through a pile of (what I thought was clean) laundry in order to find it. I channel surfed for a bit until the door bell rang. I groaned as I got off the couch to answer it. Outside the door was a plastic bag and a pizza box sitting on the welcome mat. In permanent marker someone had drawn a dead troll on the pizza box. Fuckin figures. All we needed now was a little racism, not like the hemoscale hadn't done enough for that already. I brought the food inside and locked the door.
"Well at least the fuckin seals weren't broken," I said to myself as I inspected the Faygo bottles. They were all orange and I almost threw them out just because they were revolting. I opened the pizza box and was surprised to find a perfectly ordinary pizza. I doled outsome food onto paper towels(seeing as all the dishes were dirty) and walked towards the bathroom. The shower was turned off when I poked my head in. I had to squint to see anything through the heavy steam filling the bathroom. There waas a pile of clothes on the floor and the shower curtain was half opened.
"Gamzee? The fuckin pizza's here." I squinted more and walked in.
"Hey! Fuckass you in here?" I stepped forward and slipped. Landing heavily on my back, I let loose a string of curses that would make any sailor floorwas wet and now my jeans were sokaed as well as the back of my shirt. I heard movement as Gamzee pulled back the curtain.
"You ok buddy? He wrapped a towel around his waist slowly while he padded over to me.
"Do I fu…" I couldn't talk. He was looking at me worriedly.
"Karkat? Hello? HoNk!" he said.
"…Clothes… right. Uhm… I need to borrow some… clothes." My think pan had upended itself. Gamzee dissapeared through the door and came back with a bundle of clothes.
"Here motherfucker." He set them next to me in a dry place. He was now wearing a pair of his purple spotted pants…and nothing else.