Prior woke up feeling like ass. Not that this was unusual, but he was particularly annoyed about it this morning. Also, he needed a beer
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Close on Mark, slowly roused from sleep at the prodding of something hard and sharp.
Voiceover: Dude. Damn. Junk.
He blinked and turned his head to look at Prior- no easy task without his glasses. He tried to focus, squinted, then leaned in in a vain attempt to see what the man was talking about.
Prior looked over his shoulder and snorted. "Dude. Ninety percent of the time I feel like total ass. You should know that before. I mean, yeah, I realized that I had some noble intention of pretending otherwise so you wouldn't worry about me - but fuck it. Christ."
He leaned over to yank on a pair of discarded underwear. "I could use a beer. Seriously, man. Put some clothes on." He groaned. "I'm not going to find any clothes in here that don't make me look like a total homo, am I?"
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Voiceover: Dude. Damn. Junk.
He blinked and turned his head to look at Prior- no easy task without his glasses. He tried to focus, squinted, then leaned in in a vain attempt to see what the man was talking about.
"Uh...morning?" he murmured. "What did you say?"
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Prior paused, as if waiting for something, like maybe he was about to sneeze... and then belched.
He hit his chest with his fist and said, "Damn, I'm starving. I'd give my left nut for some buffalo wings."
He swung his legs over the side of the bed so that his back was to Mark, and reached up to messily tossle his hair.
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He leaned over to yank on a pair of discarded underwear. "I could use a beer. Seriously, man. Put some clothes on." He groaned. "I'm not going to find any clothes in here that don't make me look like a total homo, am I?"
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