Colin Matthews (smalltownguy) wrote in inpoormerit, @ 2010-03-11 10:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | colin, colin and deirdre, deirdre |
Hangover Blues
Who: Colin and open
Where: Alfa -2 and then out around town
When: After 2pm
Colin groaned and rolled over on his bed, wincing at the headache and nasty ass taste in his mouth. He didn't think he'd had that much to drink. The sun was shining way too brightly and as high in the sky as it was, it was probably way past noon. Okay, why hadn't Robbie called to wake his ass up? Unless he had had that much to drink and it was a slow day at the shop. That was the nice thing about owning a shop with your best friend. You could take hangover days.
He groped the bedside table blindly for his cellphone to check the time and couldn't find it. Just the picture of his whole family taken at Robbie and Becky's wedding he kept there. Stupid thing must have fallen off the nightstand. Rolling out of bed, he landed rather ungracefully on his ass. Pushing his bangs out of his eyes, he started searching around on the floor and hey, when did he get carpeting?
Something wasn't right here. Leaning back against the bed he realized wasn't his, he scrubbed his hands down his face and tried to remember what happened last night. He'd gotten jumped when he came out of the can and then he got shot with a dart. No, that couldn't be right.
Stumbling to his feet, Colin wavered as he looked around the room that wasn't his. What the hell? And he needed to piss again, but he wasn't certain he could ever go to the bathroom again without wanting to check all the closets and shit first. Which was crazy and only happened in horror movies. Except it had apparently happened to him.
Okay, regardless if somebody jumped out at him, he had to piss. So to the bathroom it was, where hopefully there wasn't so much sunlight to make his hangover worse. The way his head felt and his mouth tasted, he was almost hoping somebody would jump him and knock him out again. That way he could finish sleeping off the hangover and stuff would make sense again.
Yeah, he was really hung over, because that didn't make sense at all.
After he did his business, no one attacked him; so he went back to looking for stuff. There was a little computer thingy on his bed. It looked expensive and was definitely not his. There was a note on it from some Commissioner guy. He read it, then read it again, then read it one more time to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
Okay, this could not be real. It was a prank. The guys had entered him into one of those prank shows and any minute now, they were going burst out of the closets and he'd threaten them with death and they'd all laugh.
After two minutes of waiting for this to happen, Colin was starting to doubt. So he went and looked in the closet and found...some of his clothes. Okay, this was still not making sense. He went back and read the note again. Yeah, still fucked up.
Okay, he was going outside then. Maybe that was the punchline of the prank, they were all waiting outside to jump out at him and laugh and get thumped because this was so not fucking funny.
Rolling his shoulders like a prize fighter about to go a few rounds, he opened up the front door and saw...
A row of cottages just like the one he was in and nobody around. Fuck. "Okay, guys," he called out as he stepped into the sun, shielding his eyes and wincing as his headache got worse. "This isn't fucking funny anymore. Come out here so I can kick your asses for this. What the hell did you guys put in my drink anyway?"
Yeah, nobody was coming out. Oh this wasn't fucking happening. Reality was slowly setting in and he was beginning to get very worried. "Hello?" he called out. "Is anybody there?"
Fuck