Who: Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper. When: September 1st (backdated). Where: Their flat. What: Andrew was fired. Jack is comforting. Rating: Low? Status: Complete/Closed.
What Jack really wanted to do was go down and hex the people who had fired Andrew. Just a little hex. Andrew was a brilliant person and they were foolish for firing him, just for taking a sick day! Honestly! He wanted to turn them all green or make them drink slugs, or something else. Whatever randomly popped into his mind, and oh, was it ever random. As always.
But Andrew was feeling low and needed Jack's immediate attention - which was probably a good thing for all concerned, so that Jack didn't barge down and do something ridiculous. Instead, he tossed his journal onto his bed and slipped out of the room to go down the hall to Andrew's room.
"Andy?" he said, poking his head through the door, to see his best friend in bed. He scowled briefly - not at Andrew, but at the wankers who fired him! - and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey Little Spoon. Budge over," he said as he approached the bed.