"Megan is always doing things that get under my skin" Drake cried out in frustration as he lied back in bed, tuning his guitar.
"Megan has just entered into the primaries... the PRIMARIES... I'M FREAKIN' LOSIN' IT!!" Josh yells out in a futile attempt to release years of pent up frustration as he vigorously kneads a stress toy filled with a dark red liquid.
"you know? I don't really know how she did it really... she was always the stupid one" Drake says slyly while clipping his toenails
"I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL IN THE FAMILY! ME! ME!" Josh bursts out with his signature wide-eyed angry expression.
"You know... how DID Megan achei--" Drake is cut off by a doorbell. Then an aggressive knock. Then drake goes silent.
"DEMON! SHE'S A LITTLE DEMON!!" Josh yells, his stress toy being pushed to the limits. Occasionally glaring at the newspaper on the kitchen counter as if he half expected it to magically change. For this to all to be a really bad dream.
POP
Unable to withstand the unrelenting torrent of rage being unleashed upon it the stress toy bursts. The red liquid splashes across the counter and Josh's freshly dry-cleaned work vest, dying both his clothes and the newspaper a sinister shade of red.
"Yknow, I never really hear from Drake anymore..." Josh says as the words began to echo louder and louder inside his head. Josh grabs his chest and jumps up from his nightmare. He had been dreaming about Drake a lot lately. Josh looks around his empty, yet boujie apartment. Josh's bedside phone begins to blare.
He answers it quickly. "Hello?" Josh, honey, it's Drake, he's--"