DANE
Dane tossed the sheets over Marissa and leapt from the bed, his heart pounding. What fresh hell had descended upon them now? He pulled open the door and blinked.
Tuesday was covered in....
"Are you...what the...is that peanut butter?"
"Just on the left side." Tuesday pointed to his legs. "I got eggs down here and potato salad between my toes. It's nasty, too. Is that shit supposed to be fuzzy and green?"
"Uh...no." Dane swallowed the rumbling laugh in his throat. Tuesday didn't look as if he'd appreciate any form of joy right now. "How did you..." He cleared his throat. "...get that, uh, way?"
"Dane, Jr. That dog tore up the kitchen. I opened the fridge to get a Coke and he thought it was Christmas. His big ass pushed me down and he tried to jump inside. All the shelves broke and everything fell on the floor. Where I was laying." He wiggled his hips. "Damn. I think there's a pickle in my shorts."
