Who's the crazy one?

Sequal to Larry.

Howard that little shit… fuck me…

Iori felt like absolute crap. It was 10 AM, Saturday, and he had planned to sleep until at least 2pm. He needed it, anyways. Not only was he ultra hung over, but Riot thought it was appropriate to keep him up all night with an asinine conversation about Larry the Ceiling Fan - who had been re-mounted in the living room - and how they should un-mount him from the living room.

Ugh… no respect for anyone...

That was absolutely ridiculous. Larry had clearly stated he was very happy on the ceiling, and didn't want to be anywhere else. In fact, he got offended when he was denied his purpose of spinning there, in his true place. Iori had tried to explain this fact to his autistic, demonic, alter-ego, but Riot continued to insist Larry wanted to sit at the dinner table with them.

"Boss! It's me!"

Rock called from the porch. Iori yelled something incoherant in response and flopped his way out of bed, and into the living room. He had to stop and cling to the wall for a bit, because he felt his stomach doing somersaults in his belly. Once that settled down and the room stopped spinning, he dragged himself to the front door. Rock Howard was outside, and if he had come to give his opinion on Larry's feelings, then Iori was probably going to punch him. Sluggishly.

Larry, you should really move back to Sweden… people don't like you here… Go back and hang out with Cecile and the others...

"Boss?"

Iori didn't honor Rock's nagging with a reply. He arrived at his door, yanked it open - nearly tearing the chain - then slammed it shut again to manually unlock it. Shates would skin his ass if he broke more shit. She really gave him an earful after he took Larry down, and took him trotting around the city.

Nobody respects him… haah.

Iori turned to give a solemn nod to his living room ceiling fan, before his drunk ass finally figured out the latch and he pulled open the door to began shouting at the man who dared wake him up on a Saturday morning. The sun was too bright, and he cringed, even as he yelled.

"WHAT!"

"Hey, Boss can-..."

Rock's voice petered out. He stared up at Iori with eyes as wide as dish saucers. Iori glared at him. He wasn't really in the mood for this.

"Iori you have tits!"

"What!"

Iori deadpanned at the teenager. Rock looked weird. He kept wiping his face and fanning himself, but it really wasn't that hot out - and he wasn't sweating. He was all jittery and talking really fast. Did he take Adderall?

I could use some adderall…

"Oh my God, boss. Why do you have boobs!"

Iori groaned. Normally he was the one hopped up on drugs and seeing things - not Rock. Those few moments of sunlight seemed to wake his brain up, and kick it into functionality… which wasn't normal - but Iori was going to take whatever life was giving him. He stared down at the teenager who was hyperventilating (quite dangerously) on his doorstep - and realized this wasn't a stupid joke. He also took a quick glance at his own chest and patted down, just to make sure he didn't actually grow boobs overnight. He didn't.

Whatever Rock was seeing - he wasn't.

He took a deep breath, and tried not to sound as pissed as he was.

"I have tits because I benchpress. If you learn the way of the benchpress - one day you will have tits too. Now, what do you want."

Rock was freaking out so badly, he looked like he was a character in a fast-forwarded film. He was shaking like a leaf, and Iori briefly wondered how he even managed to get here without plowing his motorcycle into someone's living room.

"Holy Shit! I'm serious! When did you get a sex change?! Why- oh god… why is it so hot out! Did… Did yo- AAaahhh!"

Iori wasn't a man often at a loss for words. Things didn't really shock him. But when Rock Howard hurled himself to the ground and began rolling about - apparently believing he was on fire - Iori watched with a strange and utter fascination.

Wow… Riot, what do you think?

Duck!

Yeah… Oh shit!

Iori lunged forwards to grab his employee by the back of his shirt before he rolled off the side of the porch. He dragged a flailing Rock Howard to his feet and then into his living room, where he continued to slap at himself and roll about. If Rock thought he was on fire - then maybe he was, and Iori was just too drunk to see it… does that make sense? Ugh… whatever.

Iori yawned and went to fetch the fire extinguisher in his closet.

Larry the ceiling fan is Yag's imaginary friend who he met in Sweden. He started out as Larry the ceiling 'friend' while he was tripping out in that cabin in the middle of the woods. Some of his other imaginery friends were cecile and some other names that I was too lazy to go check on.

Larry the ceiling friend eventually became larry the ceiling fan, whom Iori had a short romantic escapade with, before his landlady demanded Yag install the fan back into the ceiling.

Big adventure!

He's drunk :0

Alcohol is a depressant.