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Christian

"Put your back into it son, this couch won't move with just my own strength

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"Put your back into it son, this couch won't move with just my own strength." Slav scolded me.

"You know, when you said you needed my help with something this morning, this isn't what I thought you had in mind." I replied in between my heavy breathing.

My father and I were currently in the middle of moving my mothers heavy weighted Victorian style coach from one end of the room to the other.

"Besides, don't you guys have people for this? Why the hell are we doing this ourselves?" I added. He gave me a shrug.

"When I do manly shit like this, it turns your mother on. So stop complaining and help me move this motherfucker." He snapped back. I tried not to throw up at my fathers words. Why did he have to be so blatantly transparent with his and mothers relationship?

"Where is mum anyways? Usually she wouldn't hesitate to start nagging me regardless of how early in the morning it was."

"She's out taking care of some business. I told her I'd get this couch moved before she got back." Slav started to explain. Before he could continue, his phone started going off in his pocket. "Hold up." He said, dropping the couch and it's remaining weight onto me.

"Fuck, dad!" I shot out, as I tried to gently lower the heavy ass furniture onto my mother's marbled floors. If I fucked either the couch or her floors up, my mother would, in return, fuck me all the way up.

"Hey Brad, what's up?" My dad asked, completely ignoring my cry for help. "Oh he... he did what? Just hang tight, Christian and I are heading over."

Those were the last words he spoke into the phone before hanging up.

"That was Brad?" I asked. Slav nodded to me.

"Get your coat. Brad needs my help."

"Why do I have to come?" I whined. "I just left his place like two seconds ago."

"Because I don't feel like driving. And I said so." Was all he replied with.

-

When Slav and I arrived at Brad's, I wasn't quite sure what we were getting ourselves into... but when I got one look at the completely wasted Derek sprawled out on the floor covered in his own vomit, it all made sense.

"What the hell happened here?" Our father asked.

"This idiot tried some of your lethal ass alcohol. He's been pretty unresponsive for the last hour or so. I'm not sure if we should take him to the hospital or what." Brad explained.

"He had some of the Gdański Spirytus?" Slav asked.

"And Gdański Rektyfikowany." Brad added.

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