"What am I talking about?" I say, bordering on hysteria. He's deathly gray in the harsh light of the kitchen, his eyes glowing bright yellow, and peeking from behind his lips are a pair of sharp fangs.
"Mike, you just... you fuckin'... You just died on the fuckin' kitchen floor, you asshole," I hiss, the gears in my head finally turning at a speed that makes higher thinking possible. I push to my feet, grabbing him by the arms and saying, "Get up. Come on, we gotta get you outta the kitchen, your daughters might come down."
Just another fuckin' Sunday night, I guess. Awesome.
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"What am I talking about?" I say, bordering on hysteria. He's deathly gray in the harsh light of the kitchen, his eyes glowing bright yellow, and peeking from behind his lips are a pair of sharp fangs.
"Mike, you just... you fuckin'... You just died on the fuckin' kitchen floor, you asshole," I hiss, the gears in my head finally turning at a speed that makes higher thinking possible. I push to my feet, grabbing him by the arms and saying, "Get up. Come on, we gotta get you outta the kitchen, your daughters might come down."
Just another fuckin' Sunday night, I guess. Awesome.