The Roomie

“Hello?” a hearty voice called out as Mark rubbed the cold out his eyes.

“Ugh… who’s there?” asked Mark.

“Well, if this is room 319, than I am your roommate. My name is Oswald, but please for the love of God, call me Oz.”

“Alright Oz, I am your roommate Mark.” Mark said with tiredness in his voice.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Oz said as he stretched his hand towards Mark in offer for a shake.

“Likewise.” Mark replied, as he sat up and reciprocated the handshake.

Oz threw his things onto his bed and began to unpack. Mark pulled out his Ipod and nestled the headphones into his ears, as he blasted the smooth funky jams of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Oz took out his clothes, some things he hung in his closet,other things he folded and left on the bed. Oz seemed to be a neat freak in the way he folded his clothes, and how his other clothes hung in the closet in color coordinated order, light to dark. In fact, after hanging an article of clothing in the closet, he would examine them for a few moments and then change them around accordingly. Mark looked at his stuff, which was still packed away nice and neat in his bag.  

Then Oz suddenly became frantic in looking through one of bags. He should no regard towards his apparent neatness, as he had before, and instead began throwing clothes out of his bag, as thought they were in his way. He pulled out a poster and placed it up against the wall with some tape. When he was done he backed away to reveal a Total Recall poster. Mark rolled over and saw the poster.

“No way, you like Total Recall?!” Mark asked excitedly.

“Of course, it’s a classic.” Oz cleared his throat and then said in a perfect Schwarzenegger accent. “Come on, Cohaagan! You got what you want. Give those people air!”

Mark let out a loud chuckle as Oz searched through his bag. He pulled out a bottle of rum. “You down?”

“Oh gee golly gosh, of course I am!”

Mark and Oz drank and chatted for a while. They spoke of the different things they both enjoyed. They found they had a lot in common, perhaps too much to be true. There was enough left in the bottle for one person. “It’s your bottle, want to kill it?” Mark asked Oz.

“Nah, you go for it bud.” Oz replied.

“You sure?”

“Of course. It’s my bottle, which makes me the host, and I want to be a good host. Go for it my friend.”

“Thank you my good man.” Mark said as he grabbed the bottle and pressed it against hit lips. As he swallowed the gulp that was left he looked at the clock, it read 1:04 pm. “Jesus Christ, one in the afternoon and I’m already wasted.”

“Ehh, who cares? We’re in college, what differences does it make?” Oz stated.

“Oh, I have an odd request. Would you mind lifting up the plastic cover on your mattress? I just want to see something.”

Oz raised one of his eyebrows in confusion and said, “Yeah, that’s pretty weird. But sure, why not?” Oz went to his bed and lifted up the plastic cover as Mark shuffled over. Sure enough there were the same looking rips, staring at Mark as though they were mocking him. Before either of the roommates could say a word there was a large knock at the door. They opened the door and a girl, about there age, was standing there.

The End

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