Michael struck up from his old, rusty, falling apart bed.
He was currently residing in his own house, the old Myers house. No one wanted the house, no one had shown any interest in buying it or anything. It was just abandoned at this point, so he lived in that old bitch.
He stared at the wall for a good 2 hours before turning to put his feet on the ground and stood up from his bed and just stood there, starring through the hall, since the room in which his bed was in had no door, because the place was falling apart, and some hobos had eaten all the doors in the place except the front door. Infact, Michael liked that door so he killed any other hobo that tried to eat his last door. He thought about using there bodies as replacements for the doors they had eaten, but didn't know how to build SHIT. So he just stuffed them all in the basement with his old rotting cheese collection.
He stared through that hallway for another hour, and finally realized he's a useless piece of shit who just stabs door eating hobos and looks at old walls, just kidding, he didn't realize shit because he is incapable of thinking of anything other than stabbing anything that moves.
