“Do you know that feeling?

  Waking up with utter dread,” the man asked. “Knowing you're completely wasting your one and only life in a soul destroying office job.

  Where there’s no refund for the hours, days, months, and years you pour into it.

  A place that vacuums all your happiness, your dreams, and flushes ’em straight down the bog.

  The usual, you know.”

  Miller took a somber look around at the decrepit bar, whose beauty had long since faded with age, losing not just its charm, but the joy it once brought.

  He turned back and offered a simple nod, showing that yes, he did indeed know.

  “Well, today began just like that. Just another tedious day at the office to look forward to, expecting to spend most of it online, just going down the rabbit hole of celebrity spam articles.”

  The man stopped for a moment and pondered on a thought before continuing with a slight hint of a smile.

  “Though, I did also try to think up things that would make Alice laugh. That was always something to look forward to.”

  “Oooh. Who’s Alice?” interrupted Miller.

  The man couldn’t help but let the memory of Alice widen his thin lips into the tiniest of smiles on his hound dog face.

  “Oh, she’s just a girl...woman...who works with me. She’s really lovely, and beautiful!” he said, his smile now growing into a full grin.

  “You got yourself a little playmate at work ‘ave ya?” asked Miller in a wink wink manner, unable to resist his tendency to wind people up.

  The smile dropped from the man's face like a bad smell quickly being flushed down the toilet. Miller wished he hadn’t said anything.

  “What? No. No, no no. Oh no, nothing like that. I always thought she’s way out of my league. Far too good for someone like me. She’s beautiful and clever you see,” explained the man sorrowfully, though Miller saw this as a chance to save the mood.

  “Hey, don't put yourself down,” Miller said gently, like a parent trying to say anything to stop a kid going into full hysterics after they had fallen over.

  “What's wrong with a fine fella like you,...well, apart from telling everyone the world is about to end. You don't tell her that, do you?

  “No, I didn’t. I've only just found out about that this evening,” replied the man matter of factly.

  “Maybe just keep it to yourself, mate,” Miller tried to advise wisefully.

  “Sorry, what's your name, by the way? I’m Miller.”

  “David,” replied the stranger, stretching out a hand to shake Miller’s in greeting.

  Miller moved to accept, but paused when he noticed more ‘ketchup’ smeared across the fella’s sleeve.

  “Another pint for ya?” Miller asked, letting his hand maneuver over to the beer handle instead.

  “Yes, please” replied David, not taking offense at the spurred handshake. “Keep’em coming.”

  “So, this Alice,” asked Miller as he pumped out David’s fifth bitter

  “...not a potential love bunny then?” and he gave a cheeky, boyish wink, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

  Had Jacob still been around, he would probably have deserved another kick up the arse for prolonging a touchy subject, but then Miller never was great at reading the room.

  “Oh no” answered David “Alice would never be interested in a man like me… I’m football pub league and…well, she’s Premiership.

  A woman like her, well she could have a somebody and I'm just a nobody! Nonetheless I do try and at least appear as a blip on her radar” he said puffing out his chest, before sour memories invaded his mind again and he deflated once more.

  “Or at least…I did. Every day I used to think up at least one funny thing to say to make her laugh.”

  “And do you?...Make her laugh?” Miller asked, halting David’s pity party.

  “Yes...yes, actually...I did,” David answered, suddenly sitting up a little straighter.

  “I usually got a proper giggle out of her. It was always the absolute highlight of my day when I heard her laugh. And she has a real funny laugh too, you know. She comes across all prim like a right English rose, but when she chuckles, it’s a right honking sound”

  David couldn’t help but momentarily get lost in the memories from much happier times and Miller noticed the man's eyes began to mist.

  Abruptly David broke free from his reminiscence and burst out laughing

  “She sounds like a donkey, but it's marvelous! It's the most amazing sound. I love it. She'd crack up, then I'd start, and I would try to keep the moment going for as long as possible, but it's like trying to keep hold of a beautiful snowflake.” And like the proverbial piece of snow, David's happiness melted away with a sigh

  “Too beautiful for this world, and before I knew it, we'd both be back just looking at our computer screens in silence... like it never happened.”

  Miller couldn't help but smile at the imagery of it.

  “Well, at least you have that one moment a day. I wish I could get the girls laughing at my jokes…..man, I wish we got girls in here just to try and tell jokes to! Sounds like this Alice might like you.”

  “I thought, well … dared to hope so once but…” David sighed.

  “Well, thinking that was the start of my troubles I suppose. The desire I had for her and the wish that it could possibly be requited began to drive me insane!”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “End of the world kinda insane?” Miller nervously chuckled.

  “No!” snapped David a little drunkenly.

  “I'll get to that in a mo. It all ties in, you'll see!” he stated, pointing a wobbly sausage finger at Miller.

  “So, where was I? Oh yes, well today was going to be the day. I finally decided to ask Alice out on a date.”

  “Ohhhh” said Miller, coming to a realization.

  “She turned you down and it's the end of the world for you. I understand ya now, man.”

  Though the fleeting relief dissipated when Miller remembered the blood and worried what the rejection may have caused and he found himself wishing he could kick up the arse for keeping this stupid bloody convo going!

  “What? Oh no, sorry, the world, everything as we know it, is ending tonight. Sorry, it's a bummer for all of us” corrected the man.

  “Ah” Miller simply replied, a little lost for words again.

  “Anyway, the plan didn’t go to…er…plan. You see, I stupidly decided to change tact. I elected to play it cool. You know...be like the Fonz” explained David.

  “The Fonz?” Miller asked confused.

  “Yes, THE FONZ…Heyyyyyyy, how you doing?”

  David performed, mimicking how the Fonz used to act in Happy Days ().

  “That's Joey from Friends, isn't it?” corrected Miller.

  “No! He ripped off the Fonz!” David accosted, before taking a breath

  “Anyway...the FONZ!...He is of the philosophy of treating them mean, to keep them keen”

  “How's about being nice and just asking her out on a date?” countered Miller.

  “Well I was going to, but Hank said that isn’t the way to get a woman's affections...well he put it somewhat cruder” David explained.

  “Who’s Hank?”

  “Ohhhhhhhh, he’s my flatmate... sorry, WAS my flatmate…” David aggressively informed Miller.

  With this last statement, Miller yet again nervously eyed the stains on David's clothing and his book. However, this time, when he returned his gaze to look back at David, he was jolted to notice that his anxious staring had been observed. Miller quickly met David's narrowed eyes with a smile more fake than a client of a budget plastic surgeon.

  “...and it's because of HIM” David continued, now with menace dripping from his words “that the bloody world is coming to a really violent end rather soon!”

  “Wh-y-y-y” asked Miller with a stammer.

  “...Taking ANY advice from Hank was always strictly at the top of my No No list but I really was desperate to get myself out of the friend zone! So last night, whilst I tried to come up with a romantic plan of my own, Hank decided to interrupt my meanderings and flop his pearls of wisdom into my lap!” raged David.

  As David began to recount his desperate tale to Miller, Mr Chippy (the ever hungry hamster), and the barfly, he explained that all of the world’s upcoming problems could be traced back to the night before.

  He’d been sitting on his lovely settee, ready for a comfy night in watching the TV soaps, when his plan was quickly and rudely interrupted by his loathsome flatmate.

  David recalled Hank’s sudden, sneaky fart of an appearance at his side, something he liked to do often. It amused him.

  One minute, David would be mid-bite into a chicken nugget; the next, the towering, long haired, gaunt frame of his flatmate would be looming beside him.

  Always, Hank wore the same musky, filthy, stained robe, left to hang open just enough for his cartoon print boxers to appear dangerously close to David’s face.

  The whiff was even closer.

  “Yo, Davey boy,” Hank beckoned in his grating, smirky, pitchy voice.

  “Can I bounce some ideas off of yah about me latest script idea, mate?”

  “Not today, Hank, I’ve got my own problem to deal with for once,” David had replied curtly.

  “Are you still in a tizz wass about that bird at work, D?” Hank asked, taking no offense at the dismissive reply he had gotten. “Look, muck, how's about some advice from Cupid ‘ere?” Hank continued, with his usual confidence in all matters.

  “No, thank you, Henry,” David retorted, making sure to use Hank's actual name, for he knew it irked him.

  “Why don't you just go back to working on your script and leave me to the TV. Thank you very much.”

  Hank, unfortunately, was not an easy fella to shake off when he felt like annoying his house mate.

  “Come on Davey, I know I like to have a laugh with you some of the time…”

  “AT me, Hank!” David quickly corrected “AT ME. Not WITH me!”

  “It's all good, Dave! See ‘ere, you're having yourself some issues with the ladies, ain't ya? And I’ve got 99 problems, but pulling the birds ain't one of them. So let me drop me love spuds on ya,” Hank said, and he gave a little thrust of his hips in David's direction. Unfortunately this caused his stained boxers to momentarily brush across David's cheek, causing him to jump up in horror.

  “What are you going on about? I don’t need any help, certainly not from you! I'm just trying to get straight in my head what I plan on saying tomorrow!” David spluttered, hoping that the quickest way to get rid of Hank was to just appease his nosiness.

  “Well, use me as a test audience, hommes,” Hank said, spreading his long, stringy arms wide.

  “I’m here to help, that's what mates do, yeah. So what have you got planned?”

  David looked at Hank, weighing up if he could actually be of any use. Yes, Hank was a complete pillock who loved to wind David up on a near daily basis, but he had to concede that he did actually have talent when it came to writing.

  He could express dialogue exceptionally well, even if his speaking vocabulary was borderline babyish at times. Perhaps he give some constructive feedback…thought David.

  “Okay. I'm going to go into the office and hit Alice with the funniest joke ever! Then…” David added whilst pacing the room, his eyes down at the ground, lost in his masterplan.

  “Whilst she's laughing, flooded with positive emotions, wham, I'll ask her to have a picnic down the park.” David stopped marching back and forth and looked up to see what Hank thought of his idea.

  “What? Are you an 8 year old from an American sitcom? That ain’t working in the real world, D. Listen to moi. Stop being so bloody lovely and cuddly to her, like a little weenie brother, and instead be a tough guy!” Hank instructed whilst puffing out his chicken chest and striking it with his fist, in what he thought demonstrated a manly pose.

  “The ladies are evolutionarily and genetically engineered to go for the top dog, the main man, protectors, the leader of the pack. Women can't help it, it's like there's a switch in their noggin's. They see a strong fella, and it will make'em go all weak at the knees for you,”

  Hank assured David with a cringe inducing bold and knowing wink.

  Just before David could reveal Hank's grand advice, Miller interrupted.

  “Hmmm.” Miller scratched his hairy chin.

  “I've never thought about it like that, cos I do see plenty of nice girls in bars going out with complete meatheads. So who knows...maybe this mate of yours is right?”

  “Oh, he ain't no mate...the bastard!” growled David.

  “He just enjoyed playing me like one of his computer games. He took proper advantage for his own amusement! He knew he was setting me up for a pratfall! He always knew!”

  “Why? What happened?” asked Miller.

  “Did you get to do your Joey impression on Alice? ‘?’”

  “The Fonz!” David gruffly corrected once again, and to make his point clearer, he dug his elbows into his hips and began swaying, both hands making thumbs up gestures.

  Miller just stared, confused. David rolled his eyes, muttered something about and continued his story. “Anyway, for some insane reason, I allowed myself to believe that Hank was actually talking some rare sense. I'm all about science, you see, and hearing his genetics based reasoning, well...he somehow had me convinced. But I was desperate, remember, and… I let love cloud reason!”

  David's chin slouched further into his chest as he stared mournfully into his glass of bitter.

  “I threw away my carefully laid plans and idiotically decided to trust the science.

  To trust in Hank!

  And, by God, aren’t we all going to pay now!”