Room 314 - Late Sunday Morning
This town had gone fucking insane. And not in the funny "haha, you've got a stupid hat" kind of way. In the " oh, let's stab Chuck" kind of way. That kind of way sucked. Or, well, sucked if you were Chuck.
His shoulder was killing him. That was probably obvious. His shoulder was killing him, it was going to leave an ugly scar and what the hell was wrong with this place? Not to mention the fact that he had to be saved by Sam, of all people. Chuck loved attention but this was one thing he didn't want to get attention for.
Chuck wasn't going to even bother telling his father about it. Wasn't like he'd give a damn or anything. That would be asking far too much of him.
He was laying on his stomach, shirtless, a pillow propped up under his chest so he could watch TV, and a very large glass of scotch in his hand. Alcohol probably wasn't the best thing for him right now but, shit, it made his shoulder nice and numb.
[The door is closed but the post is open]
His shoulder was killing him. That was probably obvious. His shoulder was killing him, it was going to leave an ugly scar and what the hell was wrong with this place? Not to mention the fact that he had to be saved by Sam, of all people. Chuck loved attention but this was one thing he didn't want to get attention for.
Chuck wasn't going to even bother telling his father about it. Wasn't like he'd give a damn or anything. That would be asking far too much of him.
He was laying on his stomach, shirtless, a pillow propped up under his chest so he could watch TV, and a very large glass of scotch in his hand. Alcohol probably wasn't the best thing for him right now but, shit, it made his shoulder nice and numb.
[The door is closed but the post is open]