Or waking up to see him, stark naked,
hunched double in the squat position, looming over you, sweat glistening from every pore, his hand pounding away at his love meat which is aimed at your face like a loaded shotgun. You make eye contact, and with a devilish grin he yells, "MORNING SON! BREAKFAST'S UP!" and then darkness.
( Edd: The Unfunny Try-Hard Edgelord, Tue 12 May 2009, 16:48, archived)