Can we just stop, admit that we drank too much and apologise for making such dicks out of ourselves?
As we slowly wake up with a banging headache on the sofa that we pissed on in our booze fuelled slumber.
Before the harsh morning light pierces our eyes through the unforgiving curtain gap, and blurry snapshots of angry faces begin to fill our mind, forming into memories of calling the owner of the gaff, Klaus, a sausage eating, beer swilling cunt.
Can we pause and re-assess?
Yes, the tele in the corner that we smashed was only 32″ when a 50″ would have been better, and the flush on the downstairs toilet wasn’t powerful enough to completely remove our foul stenching retchings after we downed that bottle of vodka we stole off Pawel.
Granted, it’s a small house and the rent is a little high, but all the bills are included and Klaus and the boys all clubbed together when that pipe burst and leaked all over our ceiling.
I don’t know where it all came from last night when we drank too much and kicked off, demanding we go it alone.
There’s no where else to stay for miles and everyone we know lives in this house. Yes, I know, uncle Donny has a spare room, but it will cost a bomb going to and fro on the train and we won’t have any money because Klaus will sack us after we trashed his house.
Look, we can gather our shit, have a silent shower and do one before everyone wakes up and just walk the streets skint and regretting it, or we can stay and apologise for being a cunt and making such a dick out of our self.
They’ll understand, Christ, we’ve all made mistakes. Remember when Klaus kicked Pawel and Jean Paul out of their rooms and insisted that they live in the shed? That was some weird shit but we all kissed and made up in the end. We’ve got it good here.
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