The smell of burnt eggs greets you as you wake.

It seems your roommate has made another lackluster attempt at making breakfast, leaving your communal pan stained with burnt food and yolk spilled on the counter. Said roommate sits on the sofa, shoveling eggs into his mouth between clicks of the tv remote and sips of.. jesus christ is that vodka.

“mornin sunshine” Dave greets, not looking away from the TV screen. “ill clean up in a bit”

“want some” He holds his half eaten plate towards you expectantly.