James shook his head. It was about 12:00 when he woke up. He sat up, his shirt missing. He sighed, shaking his messy hair. A large yawn escaped him. He felt so tired. "Man," He said, realizing his alarm never went off. "What..." He looked around his room. It was a large mess. Gah, what the hell happened? He thought. His head started hurting. He lay back down, and pulled his pillow over his face. Something wet was licking his hands. He moved the pillow, seeing his beloved dog. Hamlet. "Hammy, what are y' doing?" James laughed.
Hamlet wagged his tail, it looked as if it were going a mile a minute. He hopped off the bed, slipping on the wooden floor. "What are you doing, you buffoon?"Spat the almighty Wickishire. "Wick of a Candle, quiet. Go to bed." Hamlet replied. He snorted angerly at the kitten, who seemed to like the idea of sleeping. He ran into the hallway, slamming into the wall, then tripped going down the stairs. He slid to his empty water and food bowl, quickly followed by a half naked James.
The mulitple-toed cat watched as James walked out of the room. Closing the door behind him. She hopped out of her bed, and ran to the door. She pawed at the bottom of the door, mewling as loud as should cold. Shut up Ham! She thought, as she heard the dog's happy barks. She hopped at the handle, which was a curvy shape that never completed, hoping she could reach for it. She mewed more.
