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It is night after a busy day, and Dude is going to bed. The day's errands complete, at expense of bullets and blood, left a man exhausted. Especially after several straight days of it.
What he intends to do this evening is lay down in his freshly cleaned sheets (freshly cleaned! Difficult to procure with how soiled and old they were, but he managed) next to the Bitch, tuck some blanket under himself so she couldn't steal them all, and try and sleep as hard as he could until morning. And thus far, he was succeeding.
The night happened to be almost cool, unusually so, and the usual hum-drum of the locale around them had seemed to cool as well. It was simply a perfect night for good rest.
Postal Dude drifts off to sleep for a few hours, until the early hours of the morning when he found himself awake. He turned to look at his wife, to notice if she maybe she was what woke him up. She was still peacefully, fast asleep. In these moments, he could almost see why he married the Bitch in the first place. She was sweet for a while, for the month before they got married. Long enough for him to go head over heels for the firecracker with blonde hair. Dude always found himself in way too deep with dominant women, and in her he was the deepest of all.
Drip
…Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Dude sat up with a great sense of dread. He couldn't place what it was though, and looked around the cramped shared space.
There was a TV in the corner, a swanky TV/VCR that he and the Bitch received as a wedding gift years back. Stacked on top was a few VHS tapes they had received around.
Rocky II, the person who gave them the TV gave them this one from their collection. Funnily enough, they had yet to watch this one. They agreed they wanted to wait until they saw Rocky I together, but by now it's been a few years.
The Land Before Time, something the Bitch got because it made her nostalgic. It was a good movie, Dude always watched it all the way through.
Texas Chainsaw Massacre. They left this one playing tonight while they drifted off to sleep, so this sleeve was empty. He didnt mind the film, he thought the violence was cool.
Drip
There it was again! A spike in fear, knowing something was wrong but not being able to place what it was!
He's beginning to wake up more but was still not conscious enough to do more than look around, hardly understanding his surroundings yet.
Looking at the side opposite the TV just yielded his pile of stuff. He didn't feel a drive to put it all away at the end of his day, and the Bitch refused to touch his stuff, so it sat on the floor until he needed it. It was a system that worked for him, and that's what mattered, gun safety be damned.
He remembers he got a new toy today, a little Krotchy doll. Dude gets out of bed silently, crawling towards his coat to find his new doll.
It was stupid, and he knew it. Dude doesn't think of himself as some kind of toy loving freak, but he does feel good when he lets himself relax and hold soft things, so he lets himself. ‘There's no shame in doing what makes you feel good’, he thought.
The doll was small and plush, except for the wooden ring attached top the voicebox inside. Dude wobbled the doll back and forth over his area, making the doll "walk" across guns and donuts and tins of catnip. He smiles to himself in the dark, slowly feeling more awake.
He gives the ring a pull.
"Have a Krotchy day!"
'Jesus!' he thinks. 'That's loud!'
He turns around like a child scared his mother might catch him doing something wrong, eyeing the Bitch. He stares and stares, but she doesn't move a muscle.
He lets out a sigh of relief. Waking her up at all was out of the question. Not that it'd be easy, anyways. She slept like a pig in shit every night, while Dude was so paranoid that getting to sleep was a struggle, and staying asleep was just as difficult.
Drip
His head jerks the other way, looking at the doorway to the bedroom. He knew for sure now what it was that was bothering him.
He hops up, making the trailer wobble a little. He walks to the bathroom, still clutching his new doll.
Green eyes peer in the bathroom and look at the culprit. The old faucet, crusty with unwashedness, had a small drop building on the end. Dude grumbles to himself, and goes to grab his tools from the bottom of his pile.
It takes just a minute to tighten the O-ring, and a minute after for Dude to sit and make absolutely sure it was done dripping. He smiles just a little, satisfied with the fact that what was bothering him was fixed.
He sauntered back to his room, hoping he could get back to sleep before it was time to wake up. Moonlight seeping through the blinds cut over his side of the bed, illuminating the stains that couldn't be scrubbed out. He didn't mind. He was satisfied with what he had.