As a side note, I had the most curious experience last night/this morning. Rather, I observed the most curious experience last night/this morning. At 11pm or so, I woke up after receiving a call from my darling. Unfortunately, I had fallen asleep at 8:30 whilst waiting for 8:45 to come when she asked me to call. Alas, in the warmth of my bed, and with something soft and cuddly in my arms (pillow- God bless), subconsciousness came all too quickly. Nonetheless, groggily I crawled out of bed to answer my phone, barely understanding anything that she said, or I replied, and stumbled back in to bed. Two hours later, for I had checked the clock, the most hellish racket awoke me once more.
"I’LL FUCKING KILL THAT BASTARD!" I had enough strength to open my eyes and wonder if His Lordship (my brother) was going to murder me before closing them again.
"HE STOLE MY ABYSMAL WHIP![at least that’s what it sounded like] Everyone get their FUCKING asses up there and FUCKING kill that fucker!" Huh? Oh… Right… RuneScape. Poor Eugene… [and no, he wasn’t talking to his computer. It was more likely he was talking in Team Speak- and internet program that allows you to talk to all participants in the room you are in. In his case, it was his friends in the game]
"I’ll nail his tight little ass! Mother FUCKER!" He must have gotten a whip somehow… those things were worth millions. [4.4M to be exact]
"He fucking killed me and took my whip! Everyone get up there and KILL him! Backstabbing son of a bitch!" Guess it was someone in the clan. He’d have to be pretty strong to take down a level 102…
Footsteps. Booming, raging, thundering footsteps made their angry path through the house. God help anything stupid enough to get in the way of an angry furious anda. With what concentration I could muster, I wondered if he was looking for the phone to call Wildflame and yell at him. Hm… phone… Oh, wait. Yeah, heh heh. That was in my room. Hm… If he was looking for it, that meant… If I had the energy, I would have groaned. He was coming to kill me and take the phone. Maybe if I pretended I was asleep…
An hour or so later, he closed the door and the light flooding the house was dimmed. I tried my hardest to fall to sleep, lying on my back, my side, my back again, my side again, shifting my grip on the pillow, drinking water, groaning, but it just wasn’t working. With considerable effort, I literally dragged myself out of bed, closed the door, and barely crawled back under the covers. My last conscious thoughts were,
"This is the last time I sleep with the door open," and "Poor Eugene… he’s going to kill someone in the morning… heh, I’d better go check on him when I wake up…" Had I been awake enough to realise the consequences of that sentence, I would have lived to see the morrow. I love my brother.