I don't own Family Guy
Hey guys, this is my first Family Guy fanfic and I apologize if it sucks but I'm just experimenting to see how I can write a story with another theme.
Another date gone to waste Brian grumbled in his thoughts as he marched back home. He didn't understand why all his dates ended in a mess? What was he doing wrong? He had met this woman at the bar. She was pretty of course with a porcelain face, rosy lips, and curly blond hair. He had sat with her and held a good conversation. After a couple of shots from an alcoholic beverage, he could feel himself getting woozy. She had gotten up to go the "ladies room" but she never came back. After that, Brain had figured out that she had stood him up. He would have had a couple of drinks but he decided to control himself this time.
As he approached the door to the Griffin house, he opened the door as slowly as he could. He looked at the clock and saw that it was exactly midnight. As quietly as he could, he walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured a generous amount into a wine glass. A spied a pen and stacks of paper that were resting on top of a drawer. He walked over to the drawer, grabbed the pen and paper and sat down.
What if I try to write something? he thought. Writing was his specialty, even thought at times it wasn't as successful as it should have been. I don't know what to write about. Damn it! I hate writers block! he stared at the blank piece of paper that was staring back at him. Story of my life he thought. I land on a date with a hot girl, that bicth leaves, and now I'm back home drowning my sorrows by drinking wine and trying to write something. He poured another glass of wine and sipped the cup. Why can't I find that perfect girl? That perfect someone? Someone to make me feel better, someone that has the same likes, someone that is nice to everybody, someone that loves everything she sees, someone who is not stuck-up or snobby and is not a wimp to pick up a brick and hurl it across the sky.
Brian didn't even notice that he was writing these thoughts onto the white piece of paper. The blue ink smoothly wrote the words that were haunting his mind. He wrote about meeting that certain someone. That someone that he could love. She will be beautiful. A porcelain face, rosy lips, lifted cheeks, curly blond hair, hourglass figure. She will be HOT! He remembered all of the qualities from the previous woman that he had met at the bar. Only, she will like that same things that I like.
As he drowned himself in another swig of wine, he felt himself getting woozy. A throbbing headache pounded against his head, the blue pen slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor. His head fell onto the table while his hand clutched the green wine bottle.
Then, everything went black...