“How long have you guys been down there? I could have used some help up here!”
“We were putting drinks away,” Darren tried weakly.
“If we’re ever going to get this stuff moved in, you’ve all got to pitch in,” Curt said hotly.
Roger chimed in to smooth things over, “Everything is being done that can be done.”
“No it’s not,” blurted Curt, “putting away drinks is just code for drinking beer while I move the furniture!”
“Hey, hey, we’re all frat brothers here,” Roger tried again.
“Brother? Brother? I’d kill him, if I had half a chance!”
“Hey,” said Darren a bit petulantly, “We may not enjoy living together, but dying together isn’t going to solve anything.”
The phone rang, and Curt pulled the cordless out of his pocked, Hey. Yes, Barb. Well, yeah, I’m here at the…and you’re at the airport! No, no, no, I didn’t forget. Why am I still here?” He waved and shrugged frantically at Roger and Darren. They quickly pointed at themselves. “I sent Roger and Darren! They’re coming to get you, Barbara!”