A/N: A random collection of prompts I have to do for school for ten days, a prompt a day. I just decided, on the spur of the moment, to publish my stuff to make up for being on a kind-of hiatus with the other thing I'm currently working on. Hope you enjoy! Note: this is kind of an unedited thing, so be wary of grammatical mistakes and such.

Prompt #1: Use this plot in a short story: roommates have not paid the phone bill.

Trevor looked up from his book. "What?" he said, half-listening.

"Milk," said John, very clearly. "We're out of it." He was standing at the open fridge, peering in.

"Oh," Trevor said quietly. He shrugged, turning back to his book. "So what?"

"So we might need to get some," John said.

Trevor looked over his book and said, "I don't drink milk—I'm allergic to it, in case you forgot—so you get it."

"I don't want to go to the store; it's the middle of winter and it's FREEZING," John complained, looking out the window to see the dead trees being whipped around by the unusually strong wind.

"Not my problem," Trevor murmured. "Besides, you can just call the grocery store and order in."

"Good idea," John said in a rather loud voice, moving slowly to the phone.

Sam appeared from his room, half-asleep and eyes bleary, leaning on the doorframe. "Wh-what's all this about?" he said in an exhausted tone. "Can you let me sleep? I'm tired. It's like the middle of the night."

The two others just looked at him. "It's nine o'clock, Sam," John ventured to say, checking the clock on the wall.

Instantly, Sam was awake. His eyes were wide, his mouth was dropped, and he appeared to be breathing heavily. "Wh-what?" he said in a whisper. "N-nine o'clock? Y-you sure?"

John motioned to the clock, shrugging.

Sam looked to the clock, and his eyes goggled. "Wha—" He rushed over to the phone and started frantically dialing, elbowing John out of his way as he tried to reach for the phone.

John scowled, rolled his eyes, and went back to the fridge to search for any liquid whatsoever for his cereal.

Trevor said to Sam, "What're you doing?"

Between labored gulps of air, Sam responded. "Got to—tell Marge—not coming—to collect—"

"Marge? Who's Marge?" John interrupted, seeing nothing in the fridge aside from rotten eggs and moldy piles of old ham and slamming the door shut.

Sam held up one finger as he held the phone to his right ear, eyes squeezed shut, mouth moving silently.

Trevor said, "Oooh…is she your girlfriend?"

Sam made a 'cut it out' motion with his hand, and squeezed the phone closer to his ear, crooning to it. "Come on…come on…connect…connect—what? Wha—"

"So she is your girlfriend," John said triumphantly, opening the cupboards and pouring himself a bowl of dry cereal.

Sam wasn't paying attention. "No…nonononono…" he muttered, scowling.

"What?" Trevor asked.

Sam looked at him and said, "Apparently we haven't paid our phone bill."

"Impossible," Trevor said. "John paid it yesterday…didn't you, John?"

John was caught, face flushing, in the middle of a mouthful of Cheerios. "Um…maybe not," he admitted, scooting away from the two of them.

"What!" Sam exploded. "Why not? It was your turn!"

John grinned guiltily and said, "I was…out…yesterday. Heh. Heh."

Sam sniffled and said, "But I really need to tell Marge that I'm not coming!"

Trevor said, "Don't you have a cellphone? I kind of remember you boasting to us non-cellphone-owners about the wonders of a cell, a few months ago. Why don't you use that?"

Sam pouted and said, "Well…I kind of left it. Marge, actually, was the one that found it and I was supposed to pick it up about half an hour ago at McDonald's…but now—now I can't even call her and tell her that I'm so sorry that I wasn't there!" He started to sniffle.

John rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up," he told Sam. "You can just go to McDonald's now and hope she's still there!"

"Hah!" Trevor said from the sidelines of the conversation. "There's just about enough chance that he's going to walk to McDonald's in this…lovely weather as you would go to the store to pick up milk!"

John stared down into his cereal bowl, devoid of milk. "Oh, yeah…" he said, crestfallen at the mention of milk again.