Tanenbaum Sunglade woke up that morning. Sigh. His eyes crusted over with sand and sleep, and god knows what else. He rolled over, his fan doing nothing to stop him sweating bullets onto his already musty mattress. He checked his phone. No new messages.
He yawned, stretched, and opened a window to let an entire night of fart air out. The sunlight hit his eyes, and he cringed. Tanenbaum shuffled over, stepping over a pizza box and a crushed orange soda can, the wretch. And got dressed for the day. Sneakers, jeans, a red shirt and a hoodie that he zipped up.
He looked in the mirror. Pale skinned, grey eyes with dark circles around them, dark hair and a face coated in stubble. He sighed and shuffled out into the hall. The days were not the same since he lost his job, he was a middle manager at a security corporation. Not that he did anything especially heroic or cool. He was just tasked with helping to guard the mall at night, but now in the light of day....sigh.
Tanenbaum walked downstairs, where he could hear two voices. Strange, he only lived with his dad. He went down the stairs, crept up to the bottom which led to the kitchen.
"I actually didn't spend too much time as a vampire, it was more profitable just being a clown stripper." The words carried by his fathers voice didn't make sense when he heard them, nor did he really listen....until it was too late.
He walked into the kitchen where his father sat. Where as before he was regal, respectable, refined. He now wore a bizarre multi-colored suit, that was thin and a bit lacey in all the wrong places. Where once had a neatly combed and kempt grey-white shock of hair, it was now dyed red. His beard once of the same color and well trimmed, had been grown out and trimmed into the shape of a dong. Tanenbaum had wondered why he stopped trimming for a while.
And worst of all, he was speaking to his former boss. Who had fired him, that bitch.
"Dad? What's going on?" He said feeling dazed and dizzy, like he had to sit down.
Tanenbaums father looked at him sternly, anger in his eyes. "Son, go upstairs and don't come back down until I tell you to!" His fathers neck veins were bulging, worse than that other bulge that made itself apparent when he stood, that the younger Sunglade never wanted to see. "We will sort this out later, but until then you are grounded!"
"Dad, I'm thirty seven!"
"And still a lame, useless, loser!"
And with that, Tanenbaum ran upstairs with tears in his eyes. They found him on the floor, red crimson spilling from the wound. Tananebaum had tried to cut his wrist with the sharp edge of a cut in half soda bottle. But instead just managed to cut his thumb open and was just sucking his thumb and crying.
"Pathetic." His father said with disgust.
