In a faintly lit room, colored by the cream drapes, lays a half-naked man sleeping in jeans he was too tired and or drunk to remove. A tall figure walks past his open door. He then walks back peering in to the room. He sighs and shakes his head slightly. "Mitch." He says sounding very exasperated. "Mitch." louder this time.

Mitch murmurs. He is clearly half awake. "What do ya want."

"It's one."

"Yeah."

"PM"

"YEAH."

"You know, sometimes all I can do is worry about you!"

"I don't care."

"You know you're going to hell right?"

"I don't care."

"The bible says: the soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing!"

"Yeah, well, it also says, kill disobedient children. And that unicorns existed. Jesus! Did you prepare that or something? OH! And I don't care." He raises his arm in to the air with his middle finger, erect but no other one.

"I'll pray for you." He walks off.

"I. DON'T. FUCKING. CAAARRREEE!"

Silence. Then Mitch sighs. He sits up. Rises off his mattress. Throws on a red T-shirt with forty-two printed on in black and a slightly old dark brown trench coat. He walks out the doorway ready to face the world. And by face I mean, tell to fuck off.

Note from author: Hi people! Thanks for reading the first chapter of this idea I have, I'm really existed about it, and I'm sorry for a slow start but let's just say I hope the rest of my idea will entertain. So yeah, this is just the very start, not much to say other than hopefully this should pick up. Again thanks so much for reading!