Sweet glob. The big one six. That's mathematical. As I pull myself outta my jammies, I take a look around the treehouse, surveying last nights mess. Streamers hang from the roof, there's food on the walls and a smell of hardcore partying. Radical. I realise my head feels like junk, and I flump back down onto the bed.

"Ow dude. Lemme sleegurmplefurrrgghhblerhh."

Pulling up the fur I sat on, Jake is passed out all stretched like, a party hat crowning his lil' doggy head.
A party bear falls off one of the rafters and bounces off the floor, and straight outta the window. Ouch.

I stretch a little, and beamin' like the rad little- well, not so little- dude I am I strut down to the kitchen. Peebs is stretched on the couch, using that old pink sweater she gave me as a duvet. Cute. Marcy is floating knees off the ground with her head in the sink, clearly still asleep. I dont wanna wake my fine party peeps so I head out the door and sit on the steps. Yknow, take a few minutes to appreciate the fresh morning air, and totally not to clear my head from this lumpin hangover. It's a brand new day, the day after my birthday. The air is crisp, the breeze is warm and everythin' is feeling right.