"I hate mornings..." Michael muttered bitterly as he sat up from his bed. A pair of hands rubbed away sleep from his eyes as he groggily stood up. Beside him was his alarm clock, blurting out some type of news that Michael could frankly care less about at that time.<br/><br/><em>"The World Health organization has issued a report denying claims of a major rabies out break in Asia, it has said that it can not find any evide..."<br/></em><br/>A hand smacked the snooze button unceremoniously as Michael let a lengthy yawn escape him.<br/><br/>"And who gives a flaming fruity fuck about whatever is happenin in Asia to begin with. Long as England's fine, I could give a shit." Michael muttered unhappily, elements of his Irish background slipping through his voice as he mumbled unhappily. Last night was bad for business, with only a few people coming in at all. Usually he makes most of his profit in the night, with very little...if any...made from noon on. The lack of any real profit made him pissy as hell.<br/><br/>"Oh well, best get downstairs and make sure everything is in tact. I swear to God that I'll go ballistic if that fucking jukebox is playing music again." Michael grumbled as he pulled up a pair of pants. It may not be open yet, but he would not allow even himself to go into his Pub without any pants on. With pants now on and socks accompanying them, he began on his way down from his loft upstairs and into his pub, The Lucky Clover.<br/><br/>“And God help if Dan hasn’t taken care of the mess from those two fighting fruit cups last night, I swear I’ll beat him to death with his goddamn mops.” Dan was his janitor who was either his closest friend or his worst enemy. Very few could tell which it was.