Monday, April 4, 2011

Flash Fiction - Sunday Morning

Good morning,

 Today's entry is all about hangovers.


            The hangover was intense. When my eyes eventually opened, everything hurt. My room seemed larger, and the light from the windows was more oppressive than before. I didn’t want to get up. The clock beside me buzzed to say that it was 10:15; it could go fuck itself. Acting on its own, my hand lithely reached over to switch off the noise that dug into my ears like a drill.
            As my hand pulled away, I heard Beethoven’s Ninth booming from my phone. I groaned and knew who it was. No doubt he got drunker than me and is calling from an airport cafeteria, I thought. My fingers veered left and stretched out to grip the black Samsung by my radio.
I brought it my face begrudgingly. “Hey, Jerome.”
“There’s a naked man in my bathroom.”
I rolled my face into my pillow, relieved that he was at least at home, grunting out the word: “Oh.”
“'Oh?’ He’s upside-down in my tub. I need to shower!”
“Well, move him.”
“I can’t. I’m afraid.”
“Why? Him-being-naked isn’t contagious.”
“What if he’s on meth? Or shrooms? What then? What if he tries to kill me because he thinks I’m The Pope or some shit?”
“Then you hit him with a chair and call the cops.”
“No. You do it.”
“I’m on the other side of town!” I barked, wincing at the sound of my own voice.
“C’mon, man, you’re my best friend.”
“I’m not going to drag my hung-over ass out to your crappy apartment so I can beat up your naked guy.”
“Oh, so he’s my naked guy now?”
“Your apartment, your naked guy. Those are the rules.”
“There are rules?!”
I threw the other pillow on top of my head, pressing it down. “Yes. Can I sleep now? I need –”
“Oh god,” I heard him cry out, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper, “I think he’s awake.”
“Do you have a chair handy?”
“Yes,” he hissed. I heard a gasp. My ears focused for a brief moment to hear dry heaves in the background. “I…” he paused, “I think he’s crying.”
I nodded and pursed my lips together, “Better go and say hi.”
Throwing the phone into the hallway, I rolled over and went back to sleep.


 On that note, I'm avoiding The Hangover II like a dark alleyway. Take a look at that trailer and compare it to the one for the first film. The absolute absurdity and madness seems to be missing, and that bothers me. Mister Creative Team, you took these lunatics and sent them to Thailand, the very home of ladyboy strippers, fried insect vendors, and creepy expats, and on top of that this country is currently recovering from a massive political crisis - roll with it!

 Have these boys wake up to find that they stole a Kinnara statue, or that Alan joined The Red Shirts, or that Phil bought a transvestite, or something. Waking up to find out that one guy got shaved, another got a tattoo, and that there's a monkey in the bathroom just sounds like a regular post-drunken-party morning anywhere.

See you next time,


EDIT: May 20, 2012. Edit, edit, edit.

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