Drama Bomb

Today, Chris Holmes and Robert "The Muscle" Srinivasiah showed up. It is worth noting that Robert isn't...big, which definitely makes his name entertaining. They were get up in an outfit not unlike what a SWAT team member would wear. Big, bulky vests, lots of pockets, boots, helmets, and goggles. No weapons that I could see, but they each had a large bag on their back which could have contained anything.

I asked them what was in the bag, and they both smirked at me, and dismissed me with a wave. They strolled around the apartment, with their now familiar Blackberries. They'd glance at each other on occasion, but didn't say a word.

Then each of them took out a handful of what appeared to be canisters, and started placing them around the apartment. I asked them what those canisters were for.

Chris: "Sir, you need not worry what they are. All you need to know is that they'll help take care of your problem."

Me: "Well, I think I have a right to know. This is my apartment, and I'm paying you for this service. Err...I will pay you. After it's done."

At this point, they looked at each other and then looked at me. They motioned me over to them.

Robert: "Hey...we're going to need you to...perhaps step outside."

Me: "Huh? Why?"

Chris: "Because we're asking you to?"

Robert: "For your safety."

Me: "What? For my safety? Wai...I want to stay. What if I stay behind the kitchen counter? Would I be safe there?"

Chris: "Do you have knives or other sharp kitchen utensils?"

Me: "Kn-knives? What? Um, yes."

Chris: "Then that isn't a good idea. Outside is better."

Me: "Wait, what. Better? How?"

Robert sighed, and nodded to Chris. They both rushed me, grabbed me, and proceeded to manhandle me toward the door. They shoved me out, patted me on the back, and then locked me out. No sooner did the door close that I began to hear unholy hell being perpetrated inside my apartment. Screaming, cursing, howling, laughing, crying, splattering, crushing, exploding. I don't know how long it all lasted, but it was only a couple minutes. At this point, I realized I had my keys on me, and let myself back into my apartment.

Destruction. Total destruction. Everything in the apartment had been torn apart. Chris and Robert sat in a far corner, hair signed, clothes torn, glasses askew. But they were both grinning. They stood up at the same time, and walked over to me.

"I see you are impressed with our work. We'll send you the bill. Enjoy your rest tonight. It will be sound!"

And with that, they strolled out.