The hour is 07:00. Sam and Zick wake up, confused a bit as they look around, scratching their heads.
"Eh. You know where the bloody hell is Jack?"
"What do you fuckin' mean? You mean he's not here?!"
"Oh by Mother's name. Bloody hell."
"Can you stop fuckin' saying bloody hell?! This is fuckin' serious!"
"Can you bloody stop saying fuck then?"
"Fucking... ugh... never mind."
"Bloody good then. Now! Where is our drunk friend? Any thoughts?"
Zick looks down as the two are standing next to the stage, holding his chin, thinking.
"Hmm. Oh fuck. Fuck."
Sam's monocle falls out from surprise of Zick's words. He grabs Zick by the shoulders, shaking him.
"What do you bloody mean fuck?! What is with Jack then?!"
"Ahem..."
Zick looks up while Sam still has a grip on him, saying with a tired expression.
"Oh by M.O.T.H.E.R's name... not fuckin' again..."
"What?!"
Sam also looks up with Zick, making him lose grip of the younger brother.
A shock yet relief rise up Sam, noticing Jack, stuck to the ceiling of the room, drunk, with one foot stuck up the ceiling while his body is hanged there like left over laundry. Yet still, holding a bottle of water in his hand.
"Fuck... not again.... dammit JACK!"
The drunk brother flails a bit, making him fall straight to the floor, smashing into it as his clothes get spilled with the watery drink.
Jack gets up slowly and carefully, holding with one hand his head, scratching it.
"Wha.... what happened?... I feel a bit weird. Darn me up the pipe tree am I right?"
Zick and Sam sigh, they smack Jack's face one after another, making him more awake than he was when drunk.
"Wha-what?! I darn it. I did it again did I Huh?... hehe. Sorry I guess."
The smacked brother-
"Wait, are you really gonna darn call me that narrator? Seriously?!"
Yes now shut up Jack and let me continue to tell the story. Okay? Okay good.
"Ugh... fine. What-darn-ever narrator."
After the smacked brother disturbed me, the narrator, he coughed as he looked down in embarrassment, putting his palm against his mouth.
He then said with a calmed voice, about the night he had right after they started to sleep.
"Yeah well... listen. You two were darn sleeping, so around 23:00 I went outside, smoked cigar, calmly looking to the stars.
Then. I noticed that the darn pieces of the horse that attacked us were still scattered across the street! Including the darn carriage as well! For darn two hours I was cleaning up everything that was considered a darn mess from then all alone! After that I decided to drink some water, knock myself out as usual you know? Kinda funny that water is considered alcohol when the creatures of flesh and blood drink it with darn ease."
Sam replies with an aggressive expression, fixing his monocle back into position.
"Well why didn't you bloody asked for our help?! Even if we were sleeping, the bosses or someone from the mafias would've find us out if it was still there!"
Zick also replies with the same tone, yet trying to calm himself down, so he wouldn't look like the uncle.
"Yeah! We could've been great fuckin' help to you! But you did YERRRR clean up alone?! Why?!"
"Well. You two just looked like babies when you were darn sleeping! I couldn't darn ruin that!"
Sam and Zick sigh, smacking their own faces with their palms at the same time, making a big slap noise across the room.
Suddenly the radio turns on, taking the three gentlemen's attention as the news teller. Galileo, begins to speak up while Jack wipes the dirt that's from cleaning off his clothes.