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Stupid Fuck

My closest friend is an unremarkable man, simple of mind and incompetent at most things. I am cautious when invited one evening to a dinner party, which is to be thrown in honour of the twentieth anniversary of his mother's expiration. I bring an inexpensive and unassuming bottle of white wine to the celebrations, and spend several hours partaking of a mediocre meal spliced with dull and uninspiring conversation. My friend breaks down drunkenly near the conclusion of the evening, and confesses to being sexually attracted to me, before loudly urinating in his pants. Naturally I am appalled at his weak mind and equally weak bladder, and incapacitate him with a well-placed karate chop to the neck. I then drag him upstairs to the bedroom by his feet, immensely satisfied at the dull thuds his hollow head makes against the steps. I throw him unceremoniously onto the bed and remove his shoes and stained pants, uselessly attempting fellatio on his slumbering member. He snores loudly and in the manner of an imbecile and, disgusted, I retreat downstairs, cleaning away the table and washing the dishes. I fix myself a cup of coffee to steady the nerves and sit at the bench with a cigarette. I rinse the cup and switch off all the lights before I drive home. Once there I take a long hot shower and slip into my freshly washed pyjamas, before crawling beneath the sheets of my queen-sized bed. I mash my fists into the pillow, crying, and somewhere in the street a dog knocks over a garbage can, and a houseowner yells.