"So this is it," Benny said as he stepped through the doorway, sweeping his arms wide to encompass the entire space. The other three followed him somewhat hesitantly, glancing around with a good deal of skepticism. Benny turned to face them with a broad smile, standing in the middle of the big loft apartment. Roger, Mark and Collins stood a little inside the doorway, quietly surveying the place, from the huge metal door that had to be slid open and closed by sheer brute force, to the bare concrete floors and walls, to the arched windows that looked out across the street. For a few seconds, no one said anything.
Collins finally summed up the general consensus among the other three in a single sentence. "It's a dump, Benny," he said bluntly—not maliciously, simply a matter of fact statement.
Benny's smile faltered a little, but after a second he shook his head and said confidently, "No it's not. Maybe it needs a little work, but it's nothing we can't manage. Come on, guys, this is a great place. We're not going to find anything better than this."
"Well that's a depressing thought," Roger muttered under his breath. Benny didn't even deign to respond to that.
Mark had been staring at the ceiling for a minute or so. When Benny finally noticed and looked up to see what had captured his attention, Mark commented, "There's a hole in the ceiling."
"That's a skylight," Benny insisted stubbornly.
Roger took a few steps back and flipped the light switch by the door. Nothing happened. He looked over at Benny. "There's no power either."
"We can fix that."
Collins gave him a frank look and said simply, "Benny."
Benny sighed and turned to face the windows, looking over the building with a kind of reverent awe—not for what it was, but for what it could be. "Alright," he admitted at last, "maybe it is a dump. But it's our dump."