Bacon the Hamster – he'd barely been able to talk Brooklyn out of calling it Ham the Hamster – stared back at Elijah with one beady eye.
"I'm fired, Bacon. For the first time in my life, my employer said I'm not good enough for'em and they don't want me back ever again. Fired. Not," he raised a finger and shook it at the hamster, "that I was in love with the job or something. Who could be in love with cleaning up piss and scraping up gum and wiping up puke? Nobody, that's who. But it's the principle of the matter."
He took another swig straight outta the whiskey bottle, hardly even feeling the burn anymore. He wasn't normally much of a drinker, but since his ex drank like a fish and got everything she wanted outta life, he figured that he'd try it, too. At this point, it sure as hell couldn't hurt.
It wasn't like he had a job to get up for the next morning, or a kid to watch over.