The cats outside the trailer arched their backs, the hair on their hackles stood on end as they began their moonlit war dance. The unmistakable sound of the threatening feline growl filled the air and already neighbours had begun to drearily wake from their slumber calling out for the incessant noise to stop. in an instant the attack began, the shrill catcalls gave way to the urgent movement of paws running on metal roof tops, the warring parties swiftly taking flight, jumping on the steel trash can, sending its lid crashing to the ground.
Drax was never a man to be woken easily, but as the chaotic scenes had played out just beyond his window, his chest rumbled in protest as he begrudgingly found himself half awake. He ran his sandpaper tongue over his dry lips, they still tasted of the pussy he had eaten out just a few hours before. The thought made him smile, thinking of the crumpled mess made of the desperate lonely heart that he had corralled into the back alley behind the bar, shortly after the tender had called last drinks and ushered the cattle out into the waiting night.
The small alarm clock displayed the green neon time, 4:29 AM, too early to be awake, let alone contemplate leaving the confines of the dirty mattress thrown upon the floor, only the growing need to piss had him looking towards the door. "Fuck that," was his mumbled response to the thought of getting out of bed, instead flinging out his right arm and blindly fishing amongst the debris, fingers searching through scrunched up cigarette packets, still greasy takeaway containers, until latching onto the neck of an empty Pabst, rolling partway onto his side to use the bottle as a makeshift toilet, pungent, yellow urine splashing on his hands and down the sides as he filled it to the brim.
"Well played, Drax…" he uttered to himself with a smug, self gratifying assurance as he thought about the night, only to all of a sudden break out into a cough interrupted bout of sinister laughter, the kind that haunted the shadows where the faint of heart fear to tread. With a look across towards the kitchenette counter, his eyes settle upon the faint shine of the newly acquired badge, the only thing glittering in his dilapidated hovel, a cheap rundown trailer on the edge of town that he affectionately calls home. A conniving correction eventually whispered into the darkness, "well played… Officer Drax."
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