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A sesh turned wild. Friends crash your house like a riot. Food is gone. You’re all covered in pizza and regret.
My cousin showed up with six people. The couch is now a mattress. I’m still wearing my pants from last night.
I tried to cook. Now my kitchen looks like a war zone. My friends are still laughing.
We had a sesh. Now I have a hangover and a new nickname: ‘The Floor.’