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I wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside of my window. It takes a second to open my eyes, but, I then proceed to stretch out my arms before sliding out of bed. I slip on my fuzzy bunny slippers that rest at the foot of my bed. Making my way past my bedroom window I catch a whiff of something amazing. French toast. Unsure of where it's coming from, I decide to head downstairs and make sure it's not Tony not making them, which it isn't. I walk out on to my back deck and follow the smell, right to the fence and that I share with my neighbour, John. I peep over the fence and see something sitting in the open window. And in order to see it, I go further down the fence and look over it. As I do that, I see what looks to be freshly made French toast sitting on the window sill. My stomach starts to growl as I start to salivate. "Fuck. I need to that," I mumble to myself. With that, I grab a small pale from off my deck and put it up against the fence and in a swift manner, I hope over the fence, smoothly landing on my feet. As I approach the window, the window slams shut and in a panic, I fall backwards, landing on my side then tumbling over on to my back. I wait a few seconds before getting back up just to be cautious and when I do, I dust over my clothing and get back into my crouching position. Now feeling stomach grumble and as I get more and more anxious, I peek through the window. Fortunately for me I don't see my neighbour, but I do spot the French toast now resting on the kitchen island. With the growing grumbling in my stomach, I make my way to the back door and I immediately jiggle the knob, and it's unlocked. I take another peek into the window before I enter the house. While crouching, I make my way to the French toast that sits on the island, just a few feet away. I make it the island easily and I quickly grab the plate of French toast. Unfortunately, as I head back for the door, the dog comes strolling into the kitchen and lays eyes on me. "Fuck," I mumble to myself. "Be a good boy Dominic," I whisper, as I try to keep the dog quiet, but he starts barking and I take off into the backyard and as I climb the fence, I tumble over and land on my face on my side of the fence. I pick myself up from off the ground and run into my house. Feeling successful, I sit on the couch in the living room and start eating the French toast. "This is so good," I say out loud, as I shove the toast into my mouth. Just as I'm finishing up, there's a knock on the door and I go to look. "Who's there," I ask. "Your neighbour," the knocker replies. I panic and throw the plate on to the couch. I open the door and there he is. "Where's my mother fucking toast," he asks. "Uh, what," I respond, trying to sound confused. "I know you took it," he says. "I ate it all and it was so damn good," I exclaim before slamming the door shut.
