Disclaimer: This is a very short oneshot, but a oneshot nevertheless.
The 'Good' Life
Having just been laid off from my crappy job, I chose the wisest course of action: drunken denial. My plan was going well, shown by the number of women who'd slapped me in the face, until I received an elbow to the ribcage.
Accident as it may have been, I still stand by my decision to punch the underage teen in his badly shaven jaw. Though I'll admit the arrival of his burly, knuckle cracking posse did put a damper on my short lived victory.
For me, being tackled to the floor by a six-foot-something hippo with body odour is what makes a bad Monday infinitely worse.
Before I knew it, I was being thrown ass first into a taxi being driven by a part-time biker with botched tattoos; who, despite his appearance, was twice as cheerful as a normal person would normally be at 3am. Maybe he'd just gotten laid.
His constant babble of upbeat comments and stories about his dog Lucy made me want to kill myself.
I had no idea how I'd gotten home, seeing as I forgot where I lived.
After having an argument with the dying pot plant on what I presumed was my porch, I tried to distinguish between my junk and my house keys, which were attached to a hotdog key ring.
Oh, that's right. It was my birthday last week. Who got me the crappy present? Stupid gits, the lot of 'em.
Not knowing who I was referring to at the time, I decided to hell with conventional methods of entering houses, and threw a beheaded garden gnome through my sitting room window.
It was quite a challenge, but I was rather proud when I collapsed in a heap under my coffee table with what smelt like urine on my face.
"Not a bad night," I thought, as I felt vomit well up at the back of my throat. "Not a bad night at all."
END
Hope you enjoyed,
-H69