I recline in my plush leather chair, cracking my back. I had just finished a stack of papers that I had neglected for around three months… and god had I learnt a lesson. I decide to reward myself with a little shut eye. As I start to drift of I hear the most awful uproar from downstairs. I groan.
"What have you done this time Swe?" I ask myself, standing up and walk out of my toasty office down to the source of the noise.
"Denma'k, they'r al' gon'a be he'e soo'" I hear Sweden fuss, running manically around the ground floor.
"Chill man… this is gonna go down with a hitch, trust me"
"Yea'… Tha's the pro'le'" he barks in response to the Dane.
"Just one problem… have ye asks Iggy if this is alright?"
"Yea'… a'hile ago" Then it clicks. So I smile and creep back upstairs, letting him have his fun.
*3 hours later*
How. Did. A. Dinner. Party. Turn. Into. A. Rave?
The pulsating beat sneak upstairs like smoke, making the floor vibrate. Releasing an exasperated cry, I storm downstairs to enquire what they were doing. When I reached the foot of the stairs, I peaked my head into the large living room. Literally the whole room is moving to the repetitive beat. I shake my head. I can't be bothered with this.
Note to self: Never let Sweden host a dinner party
Wolf: I'm sorry it's so short, I'll come back to it at a later date