Authors Note: Okay then! this is my first Fanfic on this site, like ever so I'm a little bit nervous about posting my stuff, I know this is probably a really crappy fic, its barely even a story but I laughed alot while writing it and I hope the people on FF will laugh while reading it! This probably explains why Ples is such a crazy guy, due to over-partying and Ke$ha, I suppose. Anyone who has seen the video for TikTok should get this, So i shouldn't have to explain myself XD
PS. Just so you know, I didn't create Ples (Tessa Stone did) or Ke$ha (I think Satan created her), nor am I in any way related to them.
Ples Tibenoch couldn't remember what on earth, he had been doing last night. He had no recollection of anything from yesterday at all, period. He had a knot in his neck and cramps down his back (oh god, i'm too old to be doing this),and when he tried to stretch he promptly banged his head against the hard tap of his bathtub (why the fuck am I even in the bathtub) Crushed beer cans littered his tiled floor, and he didn't even bother to look in the mirror as he stumbled out of the cramped room, taking a swig from a a bottle of Jack Daniels, a quarter empty. Oddly enough, he (didn't feel like fucking shit for once) felt ready for the day, not the least bit hung-over.
He felt like... The man groped for a word. Shaking his head to clear his muddled thoughts, he grabbed his spectacles and was out the door, ready to hit the city. He brought the bottle of Jack with him, though, he knew that after he left, he certainly wouldn't be returning.
(nope, not coming back)
Trying on multiple outfits, pulling on socks, and neatly showing off his pedicured nails, the almost-middle-aged man pranced down the stairs. Brushing a hand through his tangled hair (why are there chunks of glitter in my hair), he caught sight of a happy, weirdish scene in his dining room. He wasn't sure why Hanna and his company of freaks were perched comfortably on his cushioned chairs, gorging themselves on pancakes and other breakfast pastries.
(...okay Then)
All was silent and staring at Ples, until the zombie walked in with another plate full of pancakes. The green man dropped the plate on the ground, letting out a loud, guttural scream at the sight of Ples, whom was emerging from the stairwell. Hanna joined him with hysterical shrieks. The vampire knocked over a glass of orange juice. Ples shrugged, rolled his eyes, and opened the door. He didn't care about them. Tonight he felt like he wanted to party until dawn.
('till i see the sunlight, i suppose)
The afternoon air felt warm and breezy. He rubbed his eyes and squinted. (why the hell is there a gold bicycle in my yard...?) Too many weird things are happening today. Maybe I'd be better off staying at home...Ples let out a little moan.
(ohohohohhhh)
After making a show of stopping his bicycle and scrabbling around in his pockets in search for his phone, he soon realized that his expensive blackberry has been blown up by the boys. (fucking boys blowing up our phones) After buying some beer at a nearby Seven-Eleven, Ples parked his bike near a wall to rest a bit and shield his eyes from the sun. After a while of resting, without a care in the world, them topless boy's started to line up, for some reason, with their boom boxes noisily playing a noisy song (actually this isn't a bad CD...)
"Go away. Leave a poor man alone, you filthy brutes."
"Hey dude, we hear ya' got swagger"
"Get the fuck away! Who do you think you are, young man?" (mick jagger or something?)
Long story short, they didn't go away for a while. The sleazy men inched towards Ples, hands reaching towards- (STAY AWAY FROM MY JUNK) He smacked them across the face, they were looking awfully drunk. His day was losing its glamour. By now he just wanted to go home, remove the pancakes from his carpet and put some kind of restraining order on these to-be-rapists. Still, Today Ples had woken up determined to do something fun tonight. Even if it meant going to some shabby club with these men. He wasn't trying to get totally wasted, just (trying to get a bit tipsy, that's all). He followed the rowdy group of youngsters into their shiny, gold convertible. They drove so fast, too fast, Ples felt like he was going to be sick. Everyone was getting crunk, and the smoke from their weed was making him uncomfortable. In fact, this very situation was uncomfortable. He was afraid that they were going to force him to party until he was kicked out, or worse, the police shutting everything down.
He walked into the party. Everything seemed to start just as he walked in. Ples started to feel a headache building up in his temples. He didn't want to party anymore, jesus. He wanted a cup of tea, by now.
The DJ started playing music so loud it rattled the inside of his brain and make his eyes focus on only taking more and more shots.
(good god, stop that blasted ticking noise)
He started to feel sick, the alcohol burning down his throat and into the pit of his stomach, behind his eyes, into the crevices of his brain. Ples put his hands up against the wall and felt like he was gonna hurl.
It wasn't comfortable, Stumbling home late at night, drunk up to his eyeballs, mumbling gibberish to himself, pausing every few minutes to puke in a nearby trash-can, Ples leaned against a wall and took a long minute to go through the whole day.
Once again he groped for a word on how he felt when he woke up. "Oh, that was easy," Ple$ thought, "I defiantly woke up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy" He moaned again, Hearing that dreaded clock tik-tok in his brain, just ticking. He talked to himself, mubling curse words and rambling something along the lines of 'That's what you get when you party 'till you see the sunlight, isn't that right, ples old boy' He moaned again.
(ohohohohhhh)
He was never quite the same, after that. From that night on, Ples Tibenoch had always bought his liquor from 3178, Ace's Liquor store and swore to himself
never to party again.
Read and Review!