The room stank of a stench of whiskey, cigarettes and moldy sweaty laundry. Ash and butts littered the floor, and the air thick with smoke as though Mt. Krakatoa had just laid waste to the room. He squenched his nose, took a deep breath, and braved into the lit-less room, reaching for the windows. A quick pull of the drapes and unlocking of the frames, and a little civility returned to what can only be described as a disaster for a room. Air levels began normalizing, and as light bathed the room, things could only seem to get worse.
At the corner of the room, was J, slumped almost lifelessly, except for the consistent blinking as his eyes adjusted to its new surrounding. He was a haggardly sight, unwashed for days, shirt caked with what looked like a mix of pizza and puke, with an empty bottle of Chivas in one hand, and a long burn out cigarette butt in the other. Drool (or puke, maybe) flowed freely from the corner of his lips, and you could see the confusion on his face as he tried to recognize the person in front of him.
"You look like shit man. What the fuck is wrong with you man?"
J squinted again, trying to focus hard. "Jay Fee? Ish dat you man? Itsh been afile.."
"Awhile?You've been fucking missing for two weeks man. If it wasn't because of your girlfriend calling us for help, we would've just thought you were caught up with work or something. What happened?" said J.E., with a genuinely concerned look plastered on his face.
"Vat do you min by vat hap-... happe.. happened? Me ok. See? Alifee..' replied J, thumping his chest like he was King Kong.
"You are such a fucking mess man. Come on now, let's get you cleaned up right now. R.L., give me a hand here, ok? Let's drag this deadbeat to the washroom.." said J.E. as he took J's hand and slung it over his shoulder. J burped loudly as J.E. did this, releasing a stench worse than the ninth level of hell. J.E. stuttered for a moment, trying to control the nausea building up within him, before lifting J to his feet. R.L. grabbed the other hand, trying to lift J up, but J just couldn't stand on his two feet. Slowly, they just dragged him towards the washroom, all 70kgs of lifelessness.
Dragging a whole gunny sack of rice would've been easier than this, thought J.E. as he made his way to the washroom. An evil thought flashed in J.E.'s mind. Well, I could make the most out of this and end up with some very entertaining photos while cleaning him up. And J.E. grinned as he approached the washroom. This will be entertaining. Heh.
Monday, August 10, 2009
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