Sorry for the length of this, but hell....I think this is justified!
Let me start off by saying that last night wasn't fun. I was expecting to waste away my evening with my bottle of delicious rum, and end up passed out drunk on the stairs, making my way to bed. I must say that it turned out quite different from the way I planned. Instead of my nice, comfy stairs, I ended up with my security blanket wrapped over my head as I spent the night in a Jail Cell that I'm pretty sure smelled like piss and death.
Let me start at the beginning. I went to my liquor cupboard to find my lifeblood, other wise known as my magical bottle of rum, only to find out that my drinking habits are not only killing my liver, but leaving me woefully short on the mystic substance of my desire. In a major life crisis, and a long debate with my walls, I decided to take the trek down the street to the store to buy myself a little more of the good stuff, like a good little junkie. I quickly armed myself with the shower curtain rod, that had hit me in the head earlier in the morning when I tore down the blasted object to give Slender one less space to hide, and hopefully deter him from popping in for a visit while I am sitting on the toilet, and threw my security blanket over my head, like a warrior dons his armour. I was ready for battle...or so I thought.
Now there was no incident on the way to the store, except for the crazy stares as I hurried down the street, rod clenched tightly in my hands and blanket pulled tight over my head. I checked my surroundings thoroughly, glaring off who ever I thought could possibly be a Proxy....though I think some hipsters got on the wrong end once too many. I finally made it to the store, bought my five bottles, and tried in my haste to make it back to the relative safety of my bunker as quickly as my legs could take me, when suddenly knocked on the back of the head...
And the bitch stole my rum.
You heard me. THE BITCH STOLE MY RUM.
Off she ran with me screaming like a banshee, waving my shower curtain rod and threatening to kill her. This is when the cops decided it would be a good idea to patrol the street. I was promptly pepper sprayed, disarmed, and thrown in the back of a squad car, presumed to be a illegal alien because my wallet was in the bag with the rum. After everything was said and done, I was thrown in the tiny cell to cower in the corner and cry that "he" was definitely coming to get me.
1. That bitch stole my rum
2. Who the hell was that guy who came and bailed me out with the excuse that I was a paranoid schizophrenic who forgot my medications, told me to be careful after we were outside, and just so happened to recover my wallet
and 3. Did I mention that THE BITCH STOLE MY RUM?!