He pushed open the door of 1318 Charlotte Street, and the pungent smell of alcohol grew stronger.
Dean casually picked up an empty beer can from the floor and tossed it into the trash can, then got rid of the fly-infested pizza box on the table before finally finding his old man, Peter, behind the sofa.
"Hey~ Dad, wake up," Dean prodded the prone Peter with his foot.
However, other than a snoring sound, there was no response.
Shrugging his shoulders, Dean grabbed a cup from the table and whooshed the water over Peter's face.
"Lena, quick! I need to hide in the closet!" Peter got up, instinctively seeking a hiding spot.
"Who's Lena?" Dean leaned on the sofa with his arms crossed, watching the spectacle with amusement.
"WTF?!" After seeing Dean, Peter was stunned for quite a while before realizing he was at home. "Dean, is this how you treat your old man?"
