While Erland was reminiscing about his past, biting into the pillow beside him, Frode was staring at his friend with utter disgust.
"Oh...Kiss me there." Erland spoke with a whispering voice, still in his sweet slumber, turning his sweet memory into who knows what. Or perhaps no one really wants to know what it is.
As Frode's face was filled with visible disgust, gradually increasing, making his pale skin seem green as if he was about to vomit, he slowly backed away. "(I don't have the slightest of willpower to wake this turd up...)"
There was suddenly a knock on the door and Frode was bound to wake Erland up. He landed a strong kick on Erland's back, waking him up in an instant.
"Ow..." Erland groaned and opened his eyes.
"*knock* *knock* Your Highnesses, may I come in?" said the person behind the door.
Erland rose up on the bed, rubbing his back. "Come in..." He said with a calm voice despite feeling the pain on his back.
