"What's wrong?" Arin asked. His face showed no actual emotion of care, he was merely attempting to feign his concern in hopes that Jon would grow tiresome of his behavior and leave. Arin wished to be left alone to his whiskey. As his fat, sausage-like fingers graced the grizzle of his neck-beard, he sunk further into the dirty sofa he was slouched over in. It was a ratty piece, vomit green and riddled with holes.
"Maaaaaan, Arin, none of the girls at this party want to get in some... you know... the stuff..." Jon mumbled, accentuating his last remark by bouncing his eyebrows up and down upon his sunken face. He plopped his fat ass down upon the sofa, too.
"Jon, keep it in your pants, you sick, delusional, homeless shit."
"Arin, that's you."
"O-O-Oh yeah, that's r-right." Arin tripped, stumbling over his own words through the slog of alcohol.
Jon began to count off the numerous females at the party in his mind and on his hand. There was that green-haired chick that was all over his best friend Arin for unknown reasons that irked him deeply, making her an unfit candidate for companionship. Mary Sue was here. They'd dated a while back, but Jon knew deep down he couldn't match her perfection, and he'd also grown tired of hearing her constant ramblings on her tragic backstory. Then there were those two anime chicks. Both Ryuko and Nonon seemed nice enough, in that they hadn't run away when first seeing him. Jon figured he'd have at least a semblance of a chance with that one wearing the lewd clothing, despite the fact that Jon was relatively convinced she was lacking a few Nuts and Bolts after he had caught her talking to her clothes.
"Could... could you... uh, could, uh... how about, you, and... uh..."
"Go ahead Arin, slow down."
Arin vomited a little bit on his shirt before continuing. "I... I think we should... play... Truth or Dare... like... in a little... bit I think..."
Jon's expression lit up. "Of course!" he cried. "Arin, you're a genius!" For the first time that night at his own birthday party, Jon was enjoying himself.
Arin slumped over to the other side of the couch and began to groan loudly. He pulled out a plush doll of Mega Man X and began to squeeze it tight to his body, shutting his eyes in a futile attempt to make the pain go away, to relieve himself of the emptiness that he couldn't fill with his alcohol.
Jon knew that plush all too well. It reeked of stale urine and sweat. It was missing a leg. It had been used for... ungodly things. Shivering, Jon got up and left the couch, knowing Arin Hanson would continue to cuddle the plush for a few hours. That bought him time to try and romance the ladies. He straightened his bright orange tie and spit into his hand, slicking his hair back in the process. Jon considered putting pants on, but he figured the tie and stained white v-neck would be enough. Jon knew that the girls go crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man. He walked over to the doorway of the kitchen, leaning up against it, looking on at his party and its guests.
"Good evening, lllllllllllllllllllladies."