Disclaimer: Just no.
Today, it was about lamps. Yesterday it was sticks.
Apparently it was an important stick – but a stick was a stick in his point of view.
Sometimes, he wished the constant bickering would stop. Occasionally he got his wish, and silence would ring through the flat for a precious few seconds. Inevitably though, it would start again.
It always followed the same pattern; one would order the other to do something, and after a little persuasion they would. But they would find a way to do it wrong, either accidentally or on purpose to annoy the other.
It really was getting worse.
The days when they were out gallivanting on some kind of adventure were valuable. The other two occupants of the flat were able to chill with some of their favourite habits, and some juice, (it's not all hardcore guys).
Sometimes he thought of possible ways he could help – but decided that his interference wouldn't be wanted. He had to let them get it out of their systems.
I mean, they'd known each other so long, they were practically related.
A familiar was like a kind-of brother after all.
"Bollo, get that bottle will ya?"
"Ok."
SMASH
"What the hell was that for you great ballbag! We'll have to make another batch now!"
"You could get it yourself. Not a complete useless prick."
Howard sighed and put his earplugs back in his ears, and rolled his eyes at Vince, who sat beside him listening to a Bowie tape. It was going to be a long night, but Howard Moon's advice never did go down to well with his flatmates.
A/N: hope you enjoyed :) 'Send me a postcard, drop me a line, stating point of view...' Which is a nice round-a-bout Beatles way of asking for a review. :)