Umm... Fic #2 for today...
I'm going way back with this one. It starts the morning after The Stroke. Enjoy!
"Hey,” John said to Randy, who still happened to be passed out on his floor. “Yo, dude.” The sleeping man made no signs to acknowledge John. “Wake up!” Still nothing. “Get the fuck up!” he shouted, kicking Randy in the side. When the man still made no moves, he kicked him again in the ribs. Twice. Finally, there was some movement.
“Shit, what the fuck are you doing?” Randy groaned, his right arm crossing his body to cover the spot John had just kicked… Several times. He sat up and rubbed at his sleepy eyes. “What time is it? And why the fuck am I on the floor? And… Why are you here?”
“It’s six AM, and you’re on the floor in my apartment because you were shit faced last night and couldn’t remember the code to get into your own building.”
“Oh,” Randy said, untangling himself from the blanket John had let him use for the night. “So, you’re gonna come out with us again tonight, right?”
“What, so I can baby sit you again? New best friend…”
“New best friend? We just met yesterday, and we’re already best friends? Do you have any Tylenol, or something? I’ve got this killer headache. And some asshole just kicked me in the ribs,” he added, glaring at John.
“Yeah, there’s some in the bathroom. And, just for the record, you’re the one that started the best friend thing.”
“I was drunk. You can’t listen to me when I’m drunk. So, that Tylenol?”
“I told you: it’s in the bathroom.” When Randy continued to sit on the floor, John continued, “You’re a big boy now, Randy, get it yourself.”
“But I’m the one that just got kicked in the ribs and have a bitch of a hangover,” he argued.
“And I don’t give a shit.”
“John, best friends don’t kick each other and not provide them with pain killers after,” he stated, pouting and giving the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. “Can you get me the Tylenol? Pretty please?”
“Fine!” John said, leaving Randy for the bathroom. He came back with a couple tablets and a small plastic cup filled with water. “Here you go,” he said, handing them over.
Randy tossed the tablets into his mouth and gulped down the water. “Thanks, man.” He finally stood up, stretching and trying to work out the aches that had developed from a night of sleeping on a solid floor. “Goddamn, that was uncomfortable.”
“You say that now. Last night you would have passed out in a sewer pipe if I had let you.”
Randy groaned at the thought, “Well, thanks for letting me not do that. As shitty as your floor was, a sewer pipe would have been a lot…”
“Shittier?” John suggested, stifling a laugh.
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Randy said, trying not to laugh at the inadvertent pun he had almost made, which John took the liberty of finishing for him. “Yeah, you know, I think you might be good for me. You stop me from doing really stupid shit, like passing out in the middle of the road.”
“Great, yeah, that’s awesome,” John said, giving Randy the thumbs up and a big, forced grin. “Now, last night, you were asking me why I wasn’t imbibing to my full potential. Say I want to tonight. How am I supposed to do that while I’m being your conscience?”
Randy just shrugged, “You figure that one out. I’m hungry,” he added, changing the subject. “What do you have for food around here?”
“Not much,” John said, thinking about it for a second. “Umm, I have some of those generic brand Cheerios. Toastee-O’s, or something like that. And I have granola bars and oatmeal.”
“You know what? Let’s go to the Diner. I can put on some clean clothes,” he added, looking down at himself and seeing the same clothes he had on the day before. “At least we didn’t have to be too early today. I still feel like shit. You better not have bruised anything,” he said, lifting up his shirt to examine the area John kicked multiple times that morning. He pointed at John and glared, “You’re lucky. Now, come on, if we leave now, we can still make it before the early bird special is over.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their day was pretty uneventful. Until after their training was over, that is. “You said you were coming out with us, right?” Randy asked John once again.
“Yeah. Are we going to Tommy’s again?”
“Naw, dude, tonight it’s Callie’s. Get you happy hour nights right.”
“I’m sure I’ll get to know them soon enough. What time does that one start?”
“Six. Until eight. And tonight, I’m gonna remember my code. I promise. So, new best friend, what did you want to do until then?”
“Uhh… Don’t you wanna have some alone time? We’ve spent, like, the entire last day together.”
Randy pouted, “What, are you sick of me already?”
John started to stutter, trying to find a good answer to his question. “Umm, well…”
“Ok, I see how it is. You don’t wanna hang around with me. I get it. I extend my hand out to you in friendship, and what do you do? Shoot me down.” The entire time, Randy shook his head back and forth, and John didn’t know how to react.
“Hey, man, I’m the one that introduced myself.”
“And I’m the one that actually returned your introduction.”
“Well, I’m the one that took you back to my place when you were too drunk to take care of yourself!”
“Oh, what a saint you are. You’re just trying to suck up to everyone here by trying to be the Good Samaritan.”
“You couldn’t get into your own fucking apartment! What the hell else was I supposed to do?”
A grin broke out on Randy’s face, unable to keep it up any longer. “Dude, we’re cool. I didn’t think you’d actually want to hang around me any longer than you had to. But, you’re still coming out, right?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Now, your answer?”
“Yeah, dude, you can count me in. But, uh, did you wanna come over, or something? Then we can go together, since I don’t know where Callie’s is.”
Randy grinned again, this time in surprise. “Wait, you actually want to hang out?”
“Yeah, dude, why not? Unless you don’t want to?”
“Sure! Callie’s is closer to your end of the town. We only ever go there on Friday’s, though. They’ve got the dollar beers tonight, and it’s better than Tommy’s, but it’s way more expensive than Tommy’s usually is. This is the important stuff you gotta know around here.”
“Thanks for the lesson.”
“Always happy to help. So, where did you wanna go?”
“Doesn’t matter… Your place has a TV…”
“Yeah, with four channels on it.”
“It’s better than nothing. You’ve got a deck of cards, don’t you?”
“Yup.”
“Then we’re good. Let’s go.”
“Ok. Hey, Dave,” Randy shouted across the room, “get your ass over here!”
He walked over to Randy and John, “Yeah?”
“Did you wanna come back to my place for a while? We’re gonna go hang out before we go to Callie’s, play cards and shit like that.”
Dave shrugged, “Sure, I’m game.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally, six o’clock rolled around, and the three headed over to the bar. All of them placed their dollars on the bar and were soon enough served their first glasses. “Oh, dude,” John said as he took his first taste, “this is way better. You were so right.”
“Of course I was,” Randy said, making sure it was known to be a fact. “I always am.”
“Don’t pay attention to him,” Dave told John. “He’s a little self-absorbed.”
“Hey, I can hear you, ya know.”
“Are you trying to deny it?”
“No.” Randy chugged down the remaining half of his drink, then paid for a second one.
Instead of sipping, this time John was drinking. “It’s amazing how much better this stuff is from the crap last night.”
“Oh, are you trying to prove to me that you’re not a lightweight?” Randy challenged.
“I never said I was. You’re the one that tried to pin that on me.”
“Because, for all I know, it’s true.”
A light came on in John’s eyes, his competitive spirit coming to the forefront. “Oh, yeah, sure. You’re on.” He finished the drink, then got a second. He knocked that one back, as did Randy his, and both went for a third.
Dave found another guy from OVW in the bar and left to go sit with him. “I’d hate to get in the way of your little drink off, so I’m just gonna head out…”
The two ignored, or rather, didn’t hear him as they downed numbers four and five. John asked, “What exactly are we drinking to?”
“I have no idea. You’re the one that started it. But I’ll let you know this: Orton’s don’t pass out on barroom floors.”
“Right, just on the street, on the floor of a guy's room that he’s known for a day, on a park bench, on-”
“None of which are a barroom floor. So,” Randy said, putting down money for his sixth drink, “what do you say we both get shit faced and call it a night?”
John thought about it, then gave a brief nod. “Alright, I think we can do that.” He got his own beer and drank it down. “Our livers are gonna hate us tomorrow.”
“So what? Don’t they regenerate, or some freaky shit like that? Hey, what time is it?”
“You have the watch.”
Randy glanced down at his wrist and saw that it was only 6:30. “Where did Dave go?” he asked, finally noticing the other man had left.
“He’s not there?” John wondered, turning on his stool to see the seat next to him was no longer occupied by Dave. “Dude’s like a ninja.”
The thought of Dave as a ninja sent Randy into a fit of giggles, which then led to John bursting out laughing at the same image. They sat at the bar, trying to stop, but every time they made eye contact, they would start again, more violently than the time before. Randy fell forward, his head landing on John’s shoulder, and he continued to laugh himself silly. John’s arm wrapped around Randy to prevent him from falling over more, and he let his own fall onto Randy’s shoulder.
He managed between his laughing fits to say, “Dude, you gotta breathe.”
Randy looked over at John, saying, “Ninja,” and snorted before laughing some more.
Finally, just as the two started to settle down, Dave came over to the bar to get himself another drink. “What’s so funny?”
John, who hadn’t noticed Dave come over, turned to look at him, stifling a giggle. “Ninja.” It got him another snort from Randy and an odd look from Dave.
“Whatever. You guys are weird.”
Randy looked at him and stuck out his tongue. “You just need a better sense of humour,” he said, resorting to poking Dave in the chest.
Dave shook his head, a small smile on his lips before walking away, drink in hand.
John and Randy had moved to a table and were on their fourteenth beers when Dave rejoined them once again. Randy was slouched over onto John, who did his best to keep him upright.
“You two amaze me. You’ve known each other for two days, and you’re already acting like some old married couple.”
With that, Randy snapped his head up, “Hey, we couldn’t be some old married couple. It’s not legal.”
Dave shook his head and laughed, and John remained silent. “Well, happy hour’s almost over. I think I’m gonna head out. Places to be, ya know?”
“Later,” both men said at the same time.
As they watched the other man leave, John looked down to Randy, who had resumed his position with his head on his shoulder. “What do you think he meant by that?”
“He must have some appointment, or something,” Randy answered matter-of-factly.
“No, dumbass. We’re like an old married couple.”
“I dunno,” he said with a shrug. “He’s weird like that sometimes. Dude, I am drunk. Can we go home now?”
“Sure. I’m no better off… Wanna just stay at my place again?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Because I don’t know how far I can walk like this.” He sat up, then made an attempt to stand. He was fine doing that, but when he went to walk, he slammed into the table.
“Here,” John said, standing up himself, also pretty wobbly, draping Randy’s arm over his shoulder. Maybe two drunk men could walk a straight line.
Somehow they both made it to John’s place. After some fumbling with the code and the key once inside, they were in.
“I don’t wanna sleep on the floor again. That hurt.”
“Well, all I got is the bed. At those chairs.”
“Fine, I’ll just go back to my place, because I am not sleeping on a floor. I might be drunk, but I’m not falling for that one again.”
“And you’re not getting the bed, dude.”
“You should get a couch. It’s great for times like this.”
“You could always put the toilet seat lid down and sleep on there.”
“I am not sleeping on a toilet.”
“Lay out the chairs and lay down on those.”
“You have two of them. In case you didn’t notice, I’m kinda tall. That? Not a good idea. Trust me, don’t try it.”
“I can give you another blanket to sleep on.”
“Why don’t you give the floor a shot?”
“Because it’s my fucking apartment, that’s why.”
“But I’m your guest. And your new best friend. I think you should let me take the bed. Come on, I swear I won’t bother you tomorrow night.”
“And, what, it’s just a one time thing? Like last night was?”
“Uhh… Yeah. I’m gonna be hung-over as it is tomorrow… You’ll get less bitching if you let me sleep on the bed. We could always share.”
Once that got thrown out there, Randy stopped moving around, and John stared at him as if he had two heads, which, to be honest, it probably did looks that way as John swayed slightly. “Did… You… Share?”
“Umm… Yeah? Why not? Best friends share… beds… right?”
At this point, his later beers were starting to kick in, and John was too drunk to care anymore. “Sure, just… Don’t get sick in it.”
“Orton’s don’t get sick.”
Off to part 3.
"Hey,” John said to Randy, who still happened to be passed out on his floor. “Yo, dude.” The sleeping man made no signs to acknowledge John. “Wake up!” Still nothing. “Get the fuck up!” he shouted, kicking Randy in the side. When the man still made no moves, he kicked him again in the ribs. Twice. Finally, there was some movement.
“Shit, what the fuck are you doing?” Randy groaned, his right arm crossing his body to cover the spot John had just kicked… Several times. He sat up and rubbed at his sleepy eyes. “What time is it? And why the fuck am I on the floor? And… Why are you here?”
“It’s six AM, and you’re on the floor in my apartment because you were shit faced last night and couldn’t remember the code to get into your own building.”
“Oh,” Randy said, untangling himself from the blanket John had let him use for the night. “So, you’re gonna come out with us again tonight, right?”
“What, so I can baby sit you again? New best friend…”
“New best friend? We just met yesterday, and we’re already best friends? Do you have any Tylenol, or something? I’ve got this killer headache. And some asshole just kicked me in the ribs,” he added, glaring at John.
“Yeah, there’s some in the bathroom. And, just for the record, you’re the one that started the best friend thing.”
“I was drunk. You can’t listen to me when I’m drunk. So, that Tylenol?”
“I told you: it’s in the bathroom.” When Randy continued to sit on the floor, John continued, “You’re a big boy now, Randy, get it yourself.”
“But I’m the one that just got kicked in the ribs and have a bitch of a hangover,” he argued.
“And I don’t give a shit.”
“John, best friends don’t kick each other and not provide them with pain killers after,” he stated, pouting and giving the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. “Can you get me the Tylenol? Pretty please?”
“Fine!” John said, leaving Randy for the bathroom. He came back with a couple tablets and a small plastic cup filled with water. “Here you go,” he said, handing them over.
Randy tossed the tablets into his mouth and gulped down the water. “Thanks, man.” He finally stood up, stretching and trying to work out the aches that had developed from a night of sleeping on a solid floor. “Goddamn, that was uncomfortable.”
“You say that now. Last night you would have passed out in a sewer pipe if I had let you.”
Randy groaned at the thought, “Well, thanks for letting me not do that. As shitty as your floor was, a sewer pipe would have been a lot…”
“Shittier?” John suggested, stifling a laugh.
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Randy said, trying not to laugh at the inadvertent pun he had almost made, which John took the liberty of finishing for him. “Yeah, you know, I think you might be good for me. You stop me from doing really stupid shit, like passing out in the middle of the road.”
“Great, yeah, that’s awesome,” John said, giving Randy the thumbs up and a big, forced grin. “Now, last night, you were asking me why I wasn’t imbibing to my full potential. Say I want to tonight. How am I supposed to do that while I’m being your conscience?”
Randy just shrugged, “You figure that one out. I’m hungry,” he added, changing the subject. “What do you have for food around here?”
“Not much,” John said, thinking about it for a second. “Umm, I have some of those generic brand Cheerios. Toastee-O’s, or something like that. And I have granola bars and oatmeal.”
“You know what? Let’s go to the Diner. I can put on some clean clothes,” he added, looking down at himself and seeing the same clothes he had on the day before. “At least we didn’t have to be too early today. I still feel like shit. You better not have bruised anything,” he said, lifting up his shirt to examine the area John kicked multiple times that morning. He pointed at John and glared, “You’re lucky. Now, come on, if we leave now, we can still make it before the early bird special is over.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their day was pretty uneventful. Until after their training was over, that is. “You said you were coming out with us, right?” Randy asked John once again.
“Yeah. Are we going to Tommy’s again?”
“Naw, dude, tonight it’s Callie’s. Get you happy hour nights right.”
“I’m sure I’ll get to know them soon enough. What time does that one start?”
“Six. Until eight. And tonight, I’m gonna remember my code. I promise. So, new best friend, what did you want to do until then?”
“Uhh… Don’t you wanna have some alone time? We’ve spent, like, the entire last day together.”
Randy pouted, “What, are you sick of me already?”
John started to stutter, trying to find a good answer to his question. “Umm, well…”
“Ok, I see how it is. You don’t wanna hang around with me. I get it. I extend my hand out to you in friendship, and what do you do? Shoot me down.” The entire time, Randy shook his head back and forth, and John didn’t know how to react.
“Hey, man, I’m the one that introduced myself.”
“And I’m the one that actually returned your introduction.”
“Well, I’m the one that took you back to my place when you were too drunk to take care of yourself!”
“Oh, what a saint you are. You’re just trying to suck up to everyone here by trying to be the Good Samaritan.”
“You couldn’t get into your own fucking apartment! What the hell else was I supposed to do?”
A grin broke out on Randy’s face, unable to keep it up any longer. “Dude, we’re cool. I didn’t think you’d actually want to hang around me any longer than you had to. But, you’re still coming out, right?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Now, your answer?”
“Yeah, dude, you can count me in. But, uh, did you wanna come over, or something? Then we can go together, since I don’t know where Callie’s is.”
Randy grinned again, this time in surprise. “Wait, you actually want to hang out?”
“Yeah, dude, why not? Unless you don’t want to?”
“Sure! Callie’s is closer to your end of the town. We only ever go there on Friday’s, though. They’ve got the dollar beers tonight, and it’s better than Tommy’s, but it’s way more expensive than Tommy’s usually is. This is the important stuff you gotta know around here.”
“Thanks for the lesson.”
“Always happy to help. So, where did you wanna go?”
“Doesn’t matter… Your place has a TV…”
“Yeah, with four channels on it.”
“It’s better than nothing. You’ve got a deck of cards, don’t you?”
“Yup.”
“Then we’re good. Let’s go.”
“Ok. Hey, Dave,” Randy shouted across the room, “get your ass over here!”
He walked over to Randy and John, “Yeah?”
“Did you wanna come back to my place for a while? We’re gonna go hang out before we go to Callie’s, play cards and shit like that.”
Dave shrugged, “Sure, I’m game.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally, six o’clock rolled around, and the three headed over to the bar. All of them placed their dollars on the bar and were soon enough served their first glasses. “Oh, dude,” John said as he took his first taste, “this is way better. You were so right.”
“Of course I was,” Randy said, making sure it was known to be a fact. “I always am.”
“Don’t pay attention to him,” Dave told John. “He’s a little self-absorbed.”
“Hey, I can hear you, ya know.”
“Are you trying to deny it?”
“No.” Randy chugged down the remaining half of his drink, then paid for a second one.
Instead of sipping, this time John was drinking. “It’s amazing how much better this stuff is from the crap last night.”
“Oh, are you trying to prove to me that you’re not a lightweight?” Randy challenged.
“I never said I was. You’re the one that tried to pin that on me.”
“Because, for all I know, it’s true.”
A light came on in John’s eyes, his competitive spirit coming to the forefront. “Oh, yeah, sure. You’re on.” He finished the drink, then got a second. He knocked that one back, as did Randy his, and both went for a third.
Dave found another guy from OVW in the bar and left to go sit with him. “I’d hate to get in the way of your little drink off, so I’m just gonna head out…”
The two ignored, or rather, didn’t hear him as they downed numbers four and five. John asked, “What exactly are we drinking to?”
“I have no idea. You’re the one that started it. But I’ll let you know this: Orton’s don’t pass out on barroom floors.”
“Right, just on the street, on the floor of a guy's room that he’s known for a day, on a park bench, on-”
“None of which are a barroom floor. So,” Randy said, putting down money for his sixth drink, “what do you say we both get shit faced and call it a night?”
John thought about it, then gave a brief nod. “Alright, I think we can do that.” He got his own beer and drank it down. “Our livers are gonna hate us tomorrow.”
“So what? Don’t they regenerate, or some freaky shit like that? Hey, what time is it?”
“You have the watch.”
Randy glanced down at his wrist and saw that it was only 6:30. “Where did Dave go?” he asked, finally noticing the other man had left.
“He’s not there?” John wondered, turning on his stool to see the seat next to him was no longer occupied by Dave. “Dude’s like a ninja.”
The thought of Dave as a ninja sent Randy into a fit of giggles, which then led to John bursting out laughing at the same image. They sat at the bar, trying to stop, but every time they made eye contact, they would start again, more violently than the time before. Randy fell forward, his head landing on John’s shoulder, and he continued to laugh himself silly. John’s arm wrapped around Randy to prevent him from falling over more, and he let his own fall onto Randy’s shoulder.
He managed between his laughing fits to say, “Dude, you gotta breathe.”
Randy looked over at John, saying, “Ninja,” and snorted before laughing some more.
Finally, just as the two started to settle down, Dave came over to the bar to get himself another drink. “What’s so funny?”
John, who hadn’t noticed Dave come over, turned to look at him, stifling a giggle. “Ninja.” It got him another snort from Randy and an odd look from Dave.
“Whatever. You guys are weird.”
Randy looked at him and stuck out his tongue. “You just need a better sense of humour,” he said, resorting to poking Dave in the chest.
Dave shook his head, a small smile on his lips before walking away, drink in hand.
John and Randy had moved to a table and were on their fourteenth beers when Dave rejoined them once again. Randy was slouched over onto John, who did his best to keep him upright.
“You two amaze me. You’ve known each other for two days, and you’re already acting like some old married couple.”
With that, Randy snapped his head up, “Hey, we couldn’t be some old married couple. It’s not legal.”
Dave shook his head and laughed, and John remained silent. “Well, happy hour’s almost over. I think I’m gonna head out. Places to be, ya know?”
“Later,” both men said at the same time.
As they watched the other man leave, John looked down to Randy, who had resumed his position with his head on his shoulder. “What do you think he meant by that?”
“He must have some appointment, or something,” Randy answered matter-of-factly.
“No, dumbass. We’re like an old married couple.”
“I dunno,” he said with a shrug. “He’s weird like that sometimes. Dude, I am drunk. Can we go home now?”
“Sure. I’m no better off… Wanna just stay at my place again?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Because I don’t know how far I can walk like this.” He sat up, then made an attempt to stand. He was fine doing that, but when he went to walk, he slammed into the table.
“Here,” John said, standing up himself, also pretty wobbly, draping Randy’s arm over his shoulder. Maybe two drunk men could walk a straight line.
Somehow they both made it to John’s place. After some fumbling with the code and the key once inside, they were in.
“I don’t wanna sleep on the floor again. That hurt.”
“Well, all I got is the bed. At those chairs.”
“Fine, I’ll just go back to my place, because I am not sleeping on a floor. I might be drunk, but I’m not falling for that one again.”
“And you’re not getting the bed, dude.”
“You should get a couch. It’s great for times like this.”
“You could always put the toilet seat lid down and sleep on there.”
“I am not sleeping on a toilet.”
“Lay out the chairs and lay down on those.”
“You have two of them. In case you didn’t notice, I’m kinda tall. That? Not a good idea. Trust me, don’t try it.”
“I can give you another blanket to sleep on.”
“Why don’t you give the floor a shot?”
“Because it’s my fucking apartment, that’s why.”
“But I’m your guest. And your new best friend. I think you should let me take the bed. Come on, I swear I won’t bother you tomorrow night.”
“And, what, it’s just a one time thing? Like last night was?”
“Uhh… Yeah. I’m gonna be hung-over as it is tomorrow… You’ll get less bitching if you let me sleep on the bed. We could always share.”
Once that got thrown out there, Randy stopped moving around, and John stared at him as if he had two heads, which, to be honest, it probably did looks that way as John swayed slightly. “Did… You… Share?”
“Umm… Yeah? Why not? Best friends share… beds… right?”
At this point, his later beers were starting to kick in, and John was too drunk to care anymore. “Sure, just… Don’t get sick in it.”
“Orton’s don’t get sick.”
Off to part 3.