Last Saturday Night
You just woke up, you have no idea where the hell you are, your head hurts like 8 bitches on a bitch boat, and—WOAH.
You look around the room you're currently in and...just...What the hell happened?
The place was COMPLETELY Wreck—no, REKT, SON.
Yeah. It was so rekt that it simply could not be spelled in its proper fashion. Not to mention, it also smelled like alcohol and broken dreams.
"SheeeEEEEEEE—The fuck, zansu?"
You jumped at the sudden noise before your head jerked to the location of the emitter. You winced and rubbed your temples because the swift movement only increased the pounding in your head, tenfold.
A little after the pain passed, you focused your eyes on your tall, handsome, brunette and buck-toothed companion.
"Iyami, where the hell are we!? What's going on?"
"If me remembered, me would tell you, zansu."
You gave him a nasty glare.
"This is not the time to get smart with me." You spat as you shakily stood up.
You felt like a newborn fawn out this bitch, trying to steady yourself as you took wobbly steps.
Iyami stood up not too long after you, and he actually tried to help steady you but (sort of) failed because he was having the same issue.
This whole situation seems like the perfect time to crack a joke, but you or Iyami just couldn't. Especially when you don't even know what happened,everything surrounding you is in FUBAR condition, and there's a huge possibility that the both of you could've gotten yourselves killed doing...whatever the fuck you guys did.
"Ah! Iyami watch your steeee..." Your voice trailed off into nothingness and faded away like the hissing sound made by a just-opened carbonated drink.
Iyami almost stepped on a Ciroc bottle.
That explained everything.
Looking around, you both noticed that there were Ciroc bottles of different flavors scattered EVERYWHERE. Oh, and did I mention there was a freakin' grocery cart that was perfectly aligned with the remnants of one of the many spilled beverages, leading directly to a door of broken glass.
You could follow the yellow, pineapple Ciroc road, and make a complete b line for the shattered door.
Your eyes widened. You could remember what happened!
You and Iyami were bored, it was a Saturday evening, and you guys had the horrible idea of going completely wild.
'Just for this Saturday night.' He said.
'Okay, just this once.' You said.
*Flashback*
"I'm Iyami!"
"I'm (Name)"
You two exchanged glances before simultaneously screaming, "WELCOME TO JACKASS (zansu)!!!"
Iyami tilted the grocery cart that held you, and a amount of Ciroc bottles, over the edge. He had to chase after the cart for a good minute, but he managed to catch up with it and jump in before the cart could gain its crazy speed.
*Flashback end*
The last thing you remember is crashing through the glass door.
How you guys didn't get cuts or glass stuck anywhere is amazing. Ah, the things that don't happen to drunk people.
You face palmed.
"It's official! We're idiots! We're complete idiots. I told you we should've stuck to wine! We shouldn't have even gone near the vodka! And—Are you even listening to me?"
He wasn't. Typical.
"Hm? What's this doing just lying around, zansu?"
You didn't even notice, but Iyami managed to walk all the way across the room. How? It had probably been a good 25-30 minutes and you still couldn't stand up straight. However, you did manage to ungracefully stumble over to him. When you noticed what the small device was, you snickered. "Heh. A tape recorder? Who even uses those anymore? We have phones!"
*Click* He pushed play.
(Behold, one of the most priceless duets of the century.)
You: Diiiiickey riiiiiiide!
You: Don't you want a dickey ride?
Iyami: Don't you want a dickey ride(zansu)?
Both: Dickey ride! Dickey ride!
Iyami:D-
You:I-
Iyami:C-
You:K-
Iyami:E-
You: Y!
Both: Ride!
You could not contain your laughter and neither could Iyami.
"Oh shit!" You howled in between laughter.
"What else is on this thing!? Lemme see it!"
He gave you the small device, and you guys spent the rest of the evening listening to pitiful drunken songs, conversations, and ideas that your intoxicated minds thought were completely rational.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, the two of you had drawn small hearts on each other in sharpie during your drunken stupor.