I first realize something's wrong when I wake up completely naked. Scowling, I roll over to face my brother, Feliciano, who for whatever God forsaken reason is wearing the shorts and T-shirt I fell asleep in last night. Disturbing.
His back is turned to me but I can tell he's still asleep. If he were awake he'd be jumping up and down on my chest, babbling on about whatever topic his squirrely brain happened to be holding on to at the moment.
Feliciano gasps in his sleep when I smack his ear with my fist but otherwise doesn't stir. Growling and muttering some half-hearted insults, I roll to the floor and inspect a white, button up shirt. I sneer at the stain of pasta sauce on the sleeve and pull it on anyway, figuring I can have Feli wash it later. After pulling on some boxers, I head downstairs to raid the fridge, since Feliciano obviously isn't going to make me anything, the bastard.
On the way down, I manage to trip over my own feet, sending myself somersaulting down the next eleven or so steps. I brush myself off and kick the wall angrily, then hobble away on my now injured foot. By the time I get to the fridge, I almost through it out the window when I can only find one single tomato. I make a mental note to visit Antonio later to get more and veh as I bring the tomato to my lips.
"What the fuck…?" I freeze, "…Did I just… fucking veh? I said 'veh'!? Shit, I really need to get out more!" I look down and realize I had been squeezing the fruit, forcing it to explode all over my hand and shirt, "Guess I'll see that bastard sooner rather than later."
Almost forgetting that I'm still not wearing pants, I scramble for a pair and am still trying to button the damn thing as I walk out the door.