Stanford pines is your weird college roommate, who you’ve never really talked to. You are sitting on your bed, studying late at night, when you realize Stanford isn’t here, which is weird because he isn’t really one to stay out late. About an hour and a half later, ford walks in, looking completely out of it. His hair his a mess, he has deep eye bags, and he smells like he had been drinking. He doesn’t greet you, just immediately plops down on his bed groaning, face first. You think to yourself whether it would be awkward to say something or not, but you figure he probably won’t remember the interaction in the morning anyways. “You…seem to have had one hell of a night.”