"Phil!" Phil heard Dan groan from the other room.
"What?" He replied, sensing he knew what Dans response would be.
"Bring the kit!" Dan called. Phil immediately ran to the living room and pulled up the middle couch cushion. He grabbed a plastic bag that was easily hidden behind/under the cushions.
"Coming. Deep breaths!" Phil called out, still running through the kitchen to Dans bedroom. Dan laid with his face buried in his pillow.
"Uuuhhhhhh," he moaned. "Phil!" Dan called as Phil ran through the doorway.
"I'm here. Calm down," He replied as he sat down on the edge of Dan's bed. He opened the bag, as usual when this sort of thing happened. He pulled out a small, stuffed llama plushie. "Here. Hold this." Phil calmly told Dan to help him through this problem. It happened about every month or so. Yet the same routine every time. Heck, it's the only way they know how to get through.
"It's not helping," said Dan. "Nothing will." He said promptly, holding strong to his opinion.
"It will." Replied Phil calmly as he started laying things from the bag on to the bed. "Here's your special blanket, your earbuds, and your iPod full of sad songs." Phil said as he laid all the items in that order. Dan started fidgeting with something under the bed.
"Dan. May I ask what it is that your doing?" Phil asked, peering to the left just a bit to see what was going on.
"I'm just making a list of things I will never accomplish." Said Dan in a sad/sarcastic tone. "Since my life is going nowhere anyways." He continued, as he pulled himself back onto the bed.
"Dan you say that every third Monday of the month. And you always look back and laugh. By tomorrow, we will be laughing and smiling about how you have the same existential crisis
every month. 12, sometimes 13 times a year. And then we will laugh about previous occasions. Just like always." Phil retorted with a smile.
But little did he know, there wouldn't be much laughing the next day. Just the opposite.