"Bolox to this" said Adrian, smashing down his pint glass. "I can't be arsed with you bunch of losers anymore".

"fine" said horseboy, "you're the world's worst bassist anyway".

Adrian staggered outside, where he got wet, this was due to the rain, not because he was upset about leaving the band. He took his bad temper with him to the bus stop. Where he smoked until the bus came. On the way back to his studio flat above the chip shop Adrian raged internally about the fact that the others had never played his songs.

Standing in front of the chip shop, he found his pockets where devoid of the makings of pie and chips, money was there none. He stomped up the stairs,unlocked and shoved open the door to survey the warzone of his flat.

Stumbling into the mess, breaking a couple of empty cd cases along the way, he found his way to the fridge. Wrenching open the door Adrian found that there was life saving lager in there amongst the mould, stains and leftover fast food.

For the rest of the nite