At three in the morning.
Wish he had black neighbors, screeching niggers when he’s on twitter.
"Hey! 412! Espresso, right?"
"Uh, yeah, uh, I'm Espresso, Andy Espresso. Maybe you've heard of me" Andy nervously lisped. Andy hated these hallway encounters with his neighbors, especially when he was surreptitiously throwing his dozens of empty beer bottles down the recycling chute. "I used to be on the radio, and now I have my own show, wrote a book, and.."
"Yeah" his neighbor angrily snapped. "I'm Dover, first name Ben, and my wife Eileen and I live in 410, right next door. Think maybe you could stop yelling "MOTHER'S CUNT" and "ROT BUNG" over and over at two-thirty in the morning?"
Andy dreaded and feared confrontation, more than anything. He felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, and sweat beads began to form on his comically outsized forehead. "Uhhhh, hahahaholeeeeeeeshit, you heard that, huh? Uhhh, ha ha ha, mother's cunt! Holeeeeeeshit!" he nervously sputtered.
"Uh uh yeah, we fucking hear it. So how about knocking it the fuck off. I mean, what are you, fucking retarded or something?"
The blood rushed to Andy's wildly outsized cranium, and for a fleeting moment he thought he'd faint in terror. "Uh, holeeeeeeeeshit, yeah, I'll be more quiet" he nervously mumbled, as he turned and quickly minced to the safety of his hidey-hole. Once safely back in the confines of his squalid apartment, Andy raced to his gaming rig, sat on his stool, and began furiously tweeting.
"FUCKING WORTHLESS MEAT SACK BIDEN LOVING NEIGHBOR TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT I CAN DO AT NIGHT! I PAY RENT! SHOULD HAVE KICKED THAT F/N'S FAGGOT ASS LIKE FAT DOM DID TO VITO ON SOPRANOS!". "That'll show him, no one fucks with Andy Espresso and gets away with it" tittered the closeted gay man. "Why is it that no one lets me do my guy stuff
?" he drunkenly muttered, as he logged into his video game and began his nightly live stream. "It's what men do...MOTHER'S CUNT! COCK!".