
Adam Is A Fucking Sellout (But I Don't Care Because I Love SweetTarts)
Adam wasn't recording at 5 pm, but was simply playing TTT on a public server to waste time until his pizza got to his house. A bag of SweetTarts was ripped open and there were small, sugary candies scattered all across his desk. With a smirk on his lips, a glint in his eyes, and a SweetTart on his tongue, he sniped someone from a roof, pupils dialating slightly. He had headphones in rather than his headset on, blasting dubstep. After a few minutes he had already won, a yawn escaping his sugar dusted lips. He took out his headphones and got up, strolling over to the door to retrieve his pizza. He opened the door, payed and tipped the pizza man, and brought the box inside, putting his headphones back in as he reached his desk.
A box of pizza, six glasses of vodka, and five hours later, a slightly-more-than-tipsy Adam was hardly paying attention to the game, his headphones having been taken out an hour and three glasses of wine ago. He instead found himself again texting Anthony.
You: heyyy thete beaftufl ;;;)
Drunk~: are you drunk Adam
You: mhhhm daddy
Drunk~: oh my god
Drunk~: well drink water and stuff okay? don't lay down on your back
You: baeee you always take such giiood vare of.me :*
Drunk~: damn right i do
You: aaanthony youtre so pretyt
You: i lvoe yyu
Drunk~: ...
Drunk~: I lvoe yyu too, adam
You: yyyay
Drunk~: now get some water, asshat
Drunk~: ttyl, if you need anything just call
You: ookafyyy
Adam giggled to himself, before stumbling to the kitchen to get himself water. He should listen to Anthony. As he got a glass, it took effort not to spill the water on himself. He decided then to sleep at 10:30, specifically not laying on his back. Just like Anthony said.
Anthony.
That was Adam's last thought before he fell into the warm embrace of sleep.