Every time Harold woke up, a new plate of half-eaten food sat on the tray in front of him. His head still hurt the same way, that fluffy hangover kind of headache he always got on Sundays when he was in college. He looked at the table, still out of reach. It was unnerving that the tray changed from pale pink to pale blue to pale green and then back again as if there were some code he was missing. He thought there should be more to the code than three colors.
The TV was on still. Animal planet. Some cat was scratching an owner's boyfriend. He knew the answer to that problem - a squirt bottle. Why didn't this crazy cat guy ever use a squirt bottle to stop the nasty behavior of a jealous cat? It was the tattoos, he thought. Tattoos changed the way a guy's brain worked.
He thought about that for a while.
When Harold opened his eyes, the congealed food lay on a pink tray.
Thank you for listening, jules
The TV was on still. Animal planet. Some cat was scratching an owner's boyfriend. He knew the answer to that problem - a squirt bottle. Why didn't this crazy cat guy ever use a squirt bottle to stop the nasty behavior of a jealous cat? It was the tattoos, he thought. Tattoos changed the way a guy's brain worked.
He thought about that for a while.
When Harold opened his eyes, the congealed food lay on a pink tray.
Thank you for listening, jules
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