[AUTHORS NOTE: Caution, this fanfic is NOT serious...meaning some GOOFY themes and unrealistic/uncanon tropes.]
MAX
I awoke with a slight headache from last night, barely remembering how I ended up on someone's lawn. Ever since college, I've developed a slight.. problem. When it comes to Saturday nights. As I'm sure you all know, I'm pretty big in the party scene. I sniffed the grass to make sure I wasn't dreaming, which I wasn't. I slowly lifted myself off the ground, still feeling quite groggy from the previous night. I looked back at the house whose lawn I was laying on just seconds before, and to my dismay, it was Bradley Uppercrust the Thirds house. I noticed Bobby laying in a heap in the bushes. I walked over to him, and shook him awake. "Ughhhhh... Why's it so bright.." Bobby said, heavily slurring his words. "It's time to go back to the apartment dude, you're super hungover." I replied, lifting him by the shoulders.
We reached the apartment eventually, after trying to find our way without technology for a good thirty minutes, and eventually just giving up and using Google maps. Bobby slumped on the couch almost immediately, while I searched the apartment for any signs of PJ. As I walked towards his room, I thought to myself, *He's probably still at the strip club, making mad bank.* My thoughts were quickly answered, by an empty room. I also noticed that the pedestal his hot pink stilettos were normally on were missing. I heard the apartment door slam open, followed by the sound of squeaky latex and high heels clomping on the floor. I called out, "PJ, is that you?" "Yas HUNTY! PJ has returned after a fruitful night of exploiting other male workers." I walked out of his room to see PJ standing in the door frame, weave in hand. "Well, I'm gonna go to sleep, I have my first day of work tomorrow." I said while walking towards my room. "At that crusty office? I don't know how anyone could work there.. it's so not slay." PJ replied. "Well, whatever pays the rent. Plus it provides well." I've been trying to convince PJ that this job was gonna be a good thing, but he always says I should just work at the club. He says I have the ass for it? Whatever that means.. I ignored PJ's protests and went to bed, mentally preparing for the next day.
