Alright, so I know I promised to explain what happened with the plumber, and I will, I will get to that.

But first I need to let off some steam about a more recent incident, because...

Well, it ended up with me burying my roommate in the empty lot behind my local denys.

Okay, I know that sounds bad, but listen, when you're living with a haunted doll named Shitwaffle as a roommate,

they're bound to be rough patches in the relationship.

Our issue started in the first few hours of the new year.

See, I've been out at a party all night, and a friend of mine drove me home because I was...

That was pretty drunk.

I wave goodbye as I struggled with the keys, not wanting them to see me fail at opening a door for 10 minutes.

It actually took close to 15 minutes for the lock to finally click.

And in my defense, my fingers were all but frozen in the chilly, not quite morning air.

I could have definitely gotten it in like eight minutes if it had to menace a call out.

But the door swung open, and I stumbled into the dark living room, reaching for the flashlight app on my phone,

because I didn't want to grow the walls trying to find the light switch.

And suddenly, the lamp of the far corner turned on, eliminating a figure posed on the couch.

My heart leapt into my throat before I realized, oh yeah, oh yeah, I have a roommate.

Hey buddy, I greeted the doll who had managed to position itself in the most...

disapproving way possible.

There was an uncanny resemblance to a parent who had just caught their child sneaking in after curfew.

Judging me, I started.

You can't judge me, you little doll!

You're a cute little doll, my doll roommate.

...