The first story that isn't that gay

The phone on Rupert’s nightstand rang obnoxiously, as he was startled out of the tail end of a dream that began with him in a spacesuit. “Aw, fuck, who’s calling me this early in the fucking morning?” he swore as he reached to silence the awful noise.
“Hey, Rupert,” shuddered the voice over the phone. Right away, Rupert knew it was his stupid friend Bill, and that he was in a world of trouble.
“Hey man why the fuck are you calling me at 2 in the morning?” replied an annoyed Rupert.
“Well, I was on the internet,” quavered Bill’s nasally voice, “and I can’t decide which color microwave defines me best.”
“Are you fucking shitting me, man? I got work at fucking 10:00 tomorrow, I’ve got to get up at 7:00 to get into the city, and you’re calling me about fucking microwaves?” replied Rupert angrily as he slammed the phone down. “Who was that, baby?” sighed a sexy voice behind Rupert.
“Don’t worry, Holly,” Rupert replied to the imaginary elf princess looking over at him on the other side of their bed. “Bill is just making an important life decision.”
“Well, keep it down hon, I’m trying to watch Resident Evil over here on my ipod nano” scolded the imaginary elf princess, flicking back her radiant pink hair. Rupert, enraged beyond reason, pulled out a sweet imaginary knife and plunged it into the imaginary bosom of the princess.
All of a sudden, the phone rang again. Rupert gave the phone one angry tug, and the telephone cable shot out of the wall.
“Dammit, Bill, I don’t care about your microwave!” screamed Rupert to Bill, who was sitting at his computer on the other side of the room, holding his cell phone to his ears. “Why the fuck do you keep calling me from there?” The room was tiny and dark except the pinprick light of Bill’s cell phone. It was a wonder the two could even breathe, with the deep ocean of clothes and filth covering the floor like a river.
“Buuut, I need help picking out a microwave,” Bill whined. Rupert picked up the nearest object he could find and chucked it at Bill, but it fell far short of coming anywhere near Bill or his cell phone.
“Aw, Fuck, let me try again,” muttered Rupert. Almost immediately, Bill got up from his chair, picked up the book Rupert had feebly thrown, and obediently placed it in Rupert’s hands.
Rupert again threw the book and this time hit Bill in the nuts. Bill took a moment to vomit and catch his breath. After a moment, he once again placed the book in Rupert’s hands and began to get ready for bed.
Rupert threw the book one last time, hitting Bill squarely and forcefully in the back of his head with an audible, “klunk!” This time, Bill didn’t get up…
Bill was dead.