A loud banging on his door awoke him from his drug-induced slumber. Shakily, Marijan got to his feet, muttering some form of ugly obscenity whist trying to remember where his door was. It had been what seemed like an eternity since someone had knocked on his door, so its placement was meaningless to him. After turning on his dim, cracked light, he opened the door angrily.
“Što želiš, više lijekova?" He muttered, his eyes darting across the form of his intruder. He was, admittedly, without much in the "unique" department. His form and jaw seemed standard, if a bit pudgy. He appeared to have an air of self-righteousness about him, although Marijan couldn't pick up on it.'
"What? You're Holden, right?" The man said. His voice seemed smooth compared to the gutteral screeching normally heard from the crackheads in his area. Holden took a moment to blankly stare as he attemped to remember how the English language worked.
"You know me?" The words fumbled out of his mouth in a patchy pattern. The years of meth had corroded his teeth, leaving him slurry. "I am "IceCat". I have come to meet you, sir." Holden's jaw could have dropped. Sir? Holden was many things, but sir? This was unheard of.
"Ohh. Come in, Cat." He lead the man into his abode, and stumbled into his snack-powder coated couch, already half asleep from the strenuous exercise. He motioned next to him, and the man sat. "So what do you want, man? I'm busy plotting my next rape."
IceCat broke into a mild sweat. "Well, sir, I, uh, wanted to tell you something face to face, if that's okay." Marijan grunted as though he were a neanderthal. "The truth is, sir, I think I'm... attracted to you."
Marijan's eyes widened in the manner that a pastor's does upon seeing a mass orgy. "What." he said bluntly.
"I... I want to follow your philosophy, so..." Without another word, Marijan was flipped onto his back, and having his clothes removed. "Što radiš? Stani!" Was all he could muster, as his atrophied muscles couldn't fight back against Cat's strength. His trashed room now seemed like a prison, as his most private region was fondled and hit.
"Marijan, you say that people want strong, violent men, so..." A punch to the back of the head. Marijan saw lights, and his mouth lost function as his rectum had began to be penetrated...
Thirty seconds later, and Marijan was clutching his pillow, as IceCat was leaving. "Thank you for the practice! Now I don't have to be incel!" Marijan could only shake, as the man left. He promply fumbled for a bag, and started up an extra-large meth session.
![:\](/styles/custom/emotes/svg/chris-confused.svg "Confused :\")
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