Morning.

The sound of turning shower knobs and the rush of water is heard.  Chris stirs in bed a bit before rolling over. Reaching out, he switched his alarm off before it had a chance to ring. Lying in bed, he drifted back to what had happened the day before, allowing a small smile to creep across his face. He gets out of bed, slips on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, and opens his door.

Wyatt opens his own door. He is fresh out of the shower.

Wyatt (Catching Chris before he walked into the bathroom): Saucer, I think the guy turned out water pressure up too high. 
      I’m pretty sure it’s not normal to be standing ankle-water deep while I’m showering.

Chris didn’t really hear too much of what was said. His only motive right now was getting to the bathroom.

Chris (looking back over his shoulder): Is there any hot left?

Wyatt: I don’t know. The water moves so fast, I think a lot of it’s being wasted. It was still warm when I got out, though.

Sitting down on the toilet, he hung his head, dead tired. Pushing a bit, a loud fart exploded out of his ass echoing intensely off the walls of the toilet, accompanied by a spray of oily liquid and shit.

Chris enters the kitchen. He cooks a pack of S’mores Pop-Tarts and pours himself a glass of milk. Turning the TV on ESPN, he watches some replays of last night’s games with Wyatt while he eats. After each bite of pop-tart, he takes a swig of milk, mixing it together in his mouth, mashing the milk into the pop tart as he chewed. He finishes up, throws away his trash, and puts his cup in the sink.

Chris enters his own room at the end of the hall. It’s easily distinguishable from the others, clothes splayed everywhere. A blue Izod button-down shirt lay dangling between his room and the hallways, unchanged from the night before. He changes into a bathrobe before heading into the bathroom. Getting in the shower, and feeling the water pressure, he makes a delightful noise.