…The droplets of sweat cascade down Stuart’s brow as his eyes widen, straining with terror. “A-A-Are you g-good?” he stammers, keeping his gaze firmly mixed on the small wooden statue at all times. Seconds pass into minutes without answer while the sweat grows in volume. He swallows a desperate mouthful of air and slaps his trembling lips together several times. “SANDY!” he spits.
“WHAT!” she barks back.
“HAVE YOU GOT IT!”
“Not yet, I said give me a few FUCKING minutes.”
“I’ve given you more than you F-FUCKING needed, and you’re s-still b-being an arse. I-I need Y-YOU with ME!”
She leaps to her feet and looks over at him with a frown haphazardly painted across her face. “And I said I needed a FUCKING minute,” she spits as she proudly holds out two ends of separate power cords and thrusts them together with overacted flair. A low hum buzzes from the floor below and Stuart looks down at his feet without thinking, and his heart catches itself in his chest, as does the breath he was about to let out. An overwhelming sea of panic wash over him like a wave hitting a cliff face, and he quickly looks back up at the small wooden statue, which looks at him.….