Freaky John was rolling a bud when the intercom buzzed. He licked the paper and sealed it before heading over to answer. “Yeah?”

“It’s Margaret. I forgot my keys. Can you buzz me in?”

“Who?”

“Margaret. From next door.”

The toilet flushed and Snake came back to the living room. “Who’s that?”

Freak shrugged. “I don’t know, some fuckin’ crazy woman.”

“I heard that. Snake, it’s me, Margaret. Can you let me in?”

Snake scoffed. “Who the fuck is Margaret?”

“I live in the apartment next door! Come on guys, it’s raining. I don’t have time for games.”

Freak lit up and took a nice deep hit. “Look, I’m not letting you in till I know who you are.”

The intercom was silent for a moment. “It’s raining. I’m wearing a suede jacket and I don’t have an umbrella with me. Will you please just buzz me in?!”

Snake gave the intercom the finger. “This is the sound of me not giving a flying fuck! Now, as it happens, the hot chick who lives next door is a very good friend of mine. I would know her voice anywhere, and you’re not her, so just chill the fuck out and stop ringing our goddamn buzzer!”

The intercom was silent. Snake nodded in satisfaction. “Crazy bitch.”

A crash of glass came from downstairs. Freak opened the door and peered down the stairwell.

His next door neighbor reached through the broken window pane and unlocked the door from the inside.

Freak smiled amiably as she stomped up the stairs. “Oh. I thought your name was Bargaret. Sorry about that.”

Snake concurred. “Who knew?”

She shouldered angrily past Freak and Snake to her own apartment door. Realizing she lacked the key to that, as well, she kicked it furiously.

“Let me help with that.” Snake flicked open a butterfly knife and slid it into the doorjamb, opening it neatly.

Margaret allowed him a grim smile. “Thanks.”

He tossed his hair back modestly. “It’s okay. That’s how we always get in.”

“Uh, I really needed some Windex yesterday,” Freak clarified. “I mean, it was a total fuckin’ emergency.”

“It was complicated,” Snake added.

Margaret slammed the door.

Freaky John blinked. “Do you think she’s angry?”

Snake grinned. “Dude, angry chicks are hot!”

Copyright 2005 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.

Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.