Richard and Howard climbed through the hatch to get to the roof. Richard pulled up the ladder behind them and Howard closed the door.
Richard took a minute to catch his breath before asking, “Remember how you said that we should have a built-in ladder and that my system was ratchet?”
“I would never use the term ratchet,” Howard answered, somewhat winded himself. He called 9-1-1 on his cell phone, gave his name, their current location, and described their situation. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and told Richard that the police were on their way.
“Okay.” Richard answered. “Shit. I know we’re only three floors up, but It’s high up here. I’m going to go sit down.” He did that thing.
“Hey,” Howard said, deciding to sit himself, “I probably should’ve asked you this before, but, uh, did you know that guy?”
“The giant guy with the machete?”
“That would be the one.”
“Oh, I dunno. I’m bad with faces.”
“Well, he was wearing a mask,” Howard pointed out.
“Oh yeah. No, probably not.”
“So, not a jilted ex?”
“Of course not,” Richard said before adding, “I’ve never dated somebody more masculine than me.”
“Umm,” Howard vocalized and pointed at himself.
“Oh, come on. You don’t know anything about trucks or hockey!”
“You don’t know anything about math or Star Trek!”
“Your ideas about masculinity are sexist!”
“Probably!”
The couple laughed.
“We might both survive this.”
“So, we’re both manly enough to be the final girl?”
“Right.”