"Now tell me again why you guys just didn't go home to shave?"
"I gave up my apartment– it's cheaper and I own one third of the building." Peter shoved a donut into his mouth, and washed it down with coffee, He shrugged, "Or I would if I ever remembered to pay my share of the mortgage."
Janine, sandwiched in between the two large men in the front seat (there was no WAY she was going to ride in the back with that sizzling, pile of steaming traps) looked over expectantly at Winston, "I moved in after my big sister Yasmin moved into my mama's place in Bed-Stuy with her six kids. My girlfriend didn't like it when the kids wouldn't let us watch "Oprah." Winston mumbled while making a left turn into traffic.
"And Slimer would live in the toilet if you'd let him." Janine added under her breath as the old firehouse came in to view.
The mess was up off of the sidewalk but there were two more health department notices fluttering on the front door, joining the dozen older ones. Janine also noticed that the windows on the second and third floors had been blocked off with everything from scrap lumber to cardboard boxes.
An unkempt figure in a ratty bathrobe paused and stared at them in the early morning light before scuttling into a side door, slamming it hard behind him.
"Oh my God, was that Ray?" Janine leaned over Peter, half out the open ambulance window and causing him to spill coffee all over the bottom half of his jumpsuit, "What the Hell REALLY happened while I was gone?!"