"This place is absolutely disgusting!" Michael shouted from the hallway, his voice echoing throughout the small cottage. "Women are right, four men absolutely cannot live together without there being a mess!"
Billy snorted from the couch in amusement as he ate another piece of popcorn from the bowl in Rick's lap. "Oh come on, mate! It can't be that bad."
"I tried cleaning out Rick and I's room and I could have sworn something hissed at me," Michael responded.
Rick perked up from beside Billy and tsked in disbelief. "Not possible, I stand on everything when getting out of there. It's impossible for something to still be alive."
"Maybe the stench killed it," Casey piped up from behind his novel.
"Oh, you could talk! Yours and Billy's room is obviously worse than ours. I mean, how the hell can you sleep in there?" Rick snapped, his hands on the popcorn bowl to keep it steady.
Billy nodded his head and looked over to Casey. "The lad has a point there; something did try and grab at my ankles just this morning."
Casey shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading his book.
"But Rick, you should go clean your room now. Poor Michael here looks like he's about to have a stroke," Billy turned to Michael and gave him a false look of concern.
Rick frowned and moved the bowl of popcorn to the Scotsman's lap. "Go clean your own room, mom." He then got up and headed towards the hallway.
"Don't talk to your mother that way son, or I'll have to belt you," Casey remarked.