Overnight Oats
Mitchell woke up on a burnt-out lawn chair and promptly vomited. Like confetti, Fruity Pebbles now decorated the front lawn in a vile gravy. "Must've lost track of the time," he confessed to a jogger. He gazed down at his smart watch, removing his Oakley's for a better look. "Damn, I was supposed to pick up Deborah from her painting class 9 hours ago." He jumped into his boat shoes and sprinted into the house to change out of his beer soaked lacrosse jersey and Nike shorts.
The kitchen was a mess as usual. Vince was standing at the stove in his underwear making hot cereal. "Mitchell you definitely took a nap last night," said Vince light-heartedly, pointing a greasy knife at Mitchell's disheveled crew-cut. "Yeah and I'm cranky," grumbled Mitchell as he turned to open the fridge. Mitchell liked to change his emotions violently and without reason. He felt it made him more of a "free agent", as his dad would say.
"Where the fuck are my overnight oats?!" Mitchell boomed, beer dribbling from his soaked clothing onto the fermenting crisper drawer.
Mitchell grabbed the manlet Vince by the waistband of his Fruit of the Looms, lifting him to eye level, about 6'8". "Bro, are you copping my oats? You know I need my energy for the big keg-stand tonight!"
"Easy bro, I'm just cooking up some Frosted Mini Wheats*." Vince chuckled as his body began to contort from the pain.
"Aight dude, chill, I was just messing with you." Mitchell lowered the now sterile Vince back to the floor. The overnight oats were safely in the fridge next to the Mayochup.
Choking down the kale, almond, and CBD infused oats, Mitchell gave Vince a sack tap and called him "dumb nuts" on his way out.
Mitchell, now doubting if his clothing was truly soaked in beer or urine, marched into the living room. The living room was definitely a Mitchell’s safe space, he moved his bed into the main area after he found out his roommate, Drant, didn't like Jason Aldeen. Country music was very personal for Mitchell as he was an avid fan of day drinking and drunk driving.
Katie was sitting on the couch watching Jerry Springer. Mitchell thought Katie was pretty cool for a chick. She always had a Natty Daddy in hand, farted, and she knew the names of like 4 types of truck. She was a true dude. "Sup, Katie," said Mitchell, gently grabbing his nuts to show dominance. Katie turned around, her eyebrow rings shining against the mid-afternoon sun. "What's up, turd," she said, motioning for him to pop-a-squat.
"Not the father!" Mitch shouted as another man became a father. Jerry smiled at the camera and made Mitchell feel empty inside. "You watch this shit?" he whined. "What do you like to watch?" Katie retorted in a mocking tone. Mitchell thought tremendously hard about this as 2 more potential baby-daddies walked onto the stage.
Katie crushed the Natty against her forehead and pulled out her notebook of stick-and-poke tattoo ideas. "What do you think about a dinosaur tatt---"
"FAMILY GUY" Mitchell erupted. Shaking as the veins popped out of his head. "HAVE YOU SEEN THE ONE WHERE STEWIE AND THE DAD ARE IN THE CAR AND MEG IS LIKE NO WAIT SO IT'S CHRIS AND LOIS AND THE STEWIE SAYS..." Mitchell began to see stars.
"I gotta go!" He stammered as he the living room began to change shape. He grabbed a set of clean sheets from his dirty laundry, tripping over every table leg and Wii Remote in the room.
He ran up the stairs past Dougie's room and into the water closet. Sweat was now mixing into a small puddle along with the micturant and beer drippings. He turned the shower as cold as it could go and hopped in. “There must have been something wrong with the overnight oats,” he thought. Then suddenly, blackness overtook him.
*Frosted Mini Wheats come with instructions on the box that actually say you can prepare them hot. The author does not know anyone who has actually done this and discourages anyone from attempting.