What do you get when a bitter, cynical curmudgeon gets a writing exercise with this title? Well you're about to find out. This one is going into scraps because this is what happens when I write after having a very, very rough past few months.

So...this is the writing equivalent of vent art? Enjoy!

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Cole always needed something. Most of the time it was money, sometimes a ride and other times he needed to be around someone to complain and groan on and on about his day. There were times when his needs became excessive and interfered with the plans and routines of his friends.


His friends, chief among them being Lisa, were more than accommodating even at the worst of times. Lisa would often have to drop what she was doing or multitask to make sure Cole would be okay. One would think that with even one friend so willing to lend a helping paw that Cole would be thankful. The truth is no, it was never enough.


He thought he could keep indulging his bad habits but eventually all his friends got tired of him and refused to oblige his personal crisis anymore. Suddenly Cole found that he never really had it that bad and all his complaints were just ways for him to get attention. Now that everybody refused to hardly talk to him, Cole ended having it really bad.


In the end, with friends and family ignoring him, Cole could only sit in the dark by his lonesome and reflect on his past. Do some furs learn from their mistakes and maybe Cole would too. But for now, most folks agreed that Cole could just go fuck himself.