Not Quite The Breakfast Of Champions

(I wake up for a night out and find my bed COVERED in kebab remnants. Since I hate kebab I wake up my friend, who is crashed out on my floor, to work out how this happened.)

Me: “Dude! Why am I covered in kebab?”

Friend: *hungover* “Whaaa?”

Me: “Why. Am. I. Wearing. Your. Kebab?”

Friend: “Well I put it between you and the radiator so it would still be warm when I woke up hungry. Didn’t guess you’d be such a restless sleeper.”

(I am contemplating what is most gross about this, out of my friend thinking far enough ahead to try to keep his food warm, or the fact he could eat kebab for breakfast, or the fact I ended up sleeping in said kebab. I start picking the bits of kebab off of me and lean over to reach for the wastepaper basket.)

Friend: “No! STOP! [My Name], what are you doing?!”

Me: “I’m just cleaning mys—”

Friend: “NO!”

(My friend grabs all the bits of kebab-pyjama I’ve gathered back into the wrapper and starts to eat them.)

Me: “I have no words right now.”