Overburdened with time, and unenthused about anything; he cares about nothing or nobody. Endless gaming hours have taken his ability to clench a fist. His hands and wrists are ridden with carpal tunnel from gripping his game controller with relentless intensity. His attire is simple, yet perfect for the job. Pulled from the dirty clothes hamper, crumb ridden, and funky; a worn out band t-shirt, and a pair of boxer shorts is all he needs. He is willing to accomplish nothing, for he has assumed his living room perch. Ready to waste the day, he’s a man without a mission. He is lethargic; he is the Couch
