Hey, I thought you said this was gonna be about Michael Carroll, leave my morning out of this.

I would imagine he is only up because the £500 hooker he paid to stay the night was sneaking off, but knocked over an avalanch of said cans thus waking him up. A sudden wave of anger comes over him as he hears the door click shut and he realises he is alone in bed. He get's up and pulls on the leopard skin thong discarded by the side of the bed.

He walks into the living room which was the scene for him and several hanger on mates to get drunk with strippers the night before. Everyone has gone. He sits down, sighing, on the sofa and his foot nudges one of the cans. It feels half full. He picks it up and gingerly takes a swig. Still fizzy and no fag butts. The day wasn't gonna be so bad after all...........