The house was a mess: clothes strewn across the floor, dishes with dried food on the counters and stove and in the sink, cat litter trailing from the backroom with the prevailing odor of urine and shit.

“How the hell…?” Peter muttered, closing the front door behind him. He had only been on vacation for a week. How did his housemates dirty the place up this badly this quickly?

Footsteps approached from the opposite end of the house, followed by a voice. “Yo, Peter! I thought you weren’t getting back ‘til Saturday?”

Clenching his fists by his sides, Peter kept his voice calm. “Clearly. Wanna tell me what happened here, man?”

Housemate number one, Devin, came into view, dressed still in stained sweats. “What’re you talking about?”

“Seriously?” Peter threw his arms out to encompass the entire house.

Hand scratching the back of his head, Devin grimaced. “Oh, sorry.”

“Sorry? That doesn’t cut it, Dev; this is the third time this has happened and you’ve run out of strikes. I’m done.” Peter crossed his arms, shoulders squared. “You have two weeks to find a new place.”