"Without reflection, we go blindly on our way, creating more unintended consequences, and failing to achieve anything useful." - Margaret J. Wheatley
The startling sound of a door being knocked upon rung throughout Kyle's apartment, enticing him from his bed. Grabbing the housecoat that hung over the top of his door frame, quietly the disgruntled man dressed himself, and made the boring trek to the front.
Despite reassurance that he was coming, the unknown visitor kept rapping their knuckles against the wood. Only stopping when Kyle unlocked the door and swung it open.
A large man stood before him, perhaps the tallest Kyle has ever seen. He was dressed in black clothing, turned grey by the dust and grime on him. Immediately the redhead choked on the scent of alcohol, and something that suspiciously smelled like piss.
"Can I help you?" Kyle sputtered, frowning at the swirling tattoo that peeked out of the man's shirt collar. Kyle squinted, wondering what the smudge could possibly be.
"Are you Broflovski?"
The young lawyer chewed on his bottom lip, a sense of possible danger twisted his gut. He gripped the doorknob harder at the feeling, and tried to casually inch the wood closer to the frame and its lock.
"Yes, I am. Why?"
The man before him looked away from his eyes, beholding the door trying to separate the two. He immediately gripped the door, and grunting, he tore it from Kyle's grasp. A split second later, with the wood smashing against the wall with a roar, the unnamed man forced his way into Kyle's home.
Stepping back to avoid the long and burly arms that tried to reach him, like tree trunks, Kyle made a mad dash towards the kitchen. There, an abundance of knives and a landline phone were hidden.
He didn't get very far, on his third step lights flashed behind his eyelids, popping until the vibrant colours were sucked into a soulless black. Groaning at the pain, Kyle came crashing down to the floor.
The man, whom was a stranger to Kyle had a name, and it was Max.
Max turned away from the slumped form on the ground, turning around at the sound of high heels pattering against the floor.
He offered the petite woman before him a smile, closed mouth so she wouldn't see his crooked and yellowing teeth.
"Max," Haley greeted, "thanks again for helping me out with this little issue."
Ducking his head in a modest nature, Max rubbed at the dirt smeared on his forehead with the back of his left hand.
"No problem" he mumbled, "I'm always ready to give a helping hand." He glanced back up, mouthing the back of his thumb, a trait he had learned at a young age. "Say, you'll tell Mr. Cartman that will you?"
Haley shrugged, making sure her shoulder didn't brush Max's as she stepped around him. She smiled at the sight of Kyle, boneless and ready for plucking.
"Of course, you've done a very good job here, Max."
The giant of a man popped his mouth off his thumb, grinning his thanks at Haley. And at that instance he forget about his teeth, and only flushed when she grimaced her disgust at their appearance.
Eric finally hummed with delight, shivering at the cup of coffee recently made. It had taken Kenny four tries to get it right, the ratio of milk and sugar that Eric loved. The others only got a small sip before being pushed aside, leaving Kenny to clean up the mess and go make a new one.
It was beyond him why he put up with Eric, and by going off of how Haley acted, how she put up and worked with him for so long.
"Not bad, Kenny. You've made a decent cup." Eric praised. The heat turned his teeth into gummy bits of jewelry in his mouth. He swished the pearls around, and something poured out. Not liquid, but steam that curled its way to the harsh sterile ceiling and disappeared.
"Thanks" the blonde sighed, feeling a little worse for wear. It's strange, Eric should be the one looking sickly, but it's the reverse. Despite having glass removed from his flesh and a broken nose, Eric had a smile that caused the local nurses and doctors to trip when they walked past. But he's always been like that, drawing others towards himself.
"Though not as good as Haley's, where is she by the way?"
Kenny made a tuneless sound in the back of his throat, free of worry as he shrugged. Stretching his arms above his head so his spine cracked, Kenny pondered the question.
"Don't know, she didn't say. After our talk she sort of jumped, and ran off to do something."
"What did you two talk about?"
Even though he asked, it was obvious that Eric didn't really care. He was much too absorbed in his own thoughts, thinking about a certain spitfire that Eric missed besides everything that had happened.
"Personal stuff about your lack of trust, and how Kyle threw glass at you."
Eric perked up, "Wait, say that last part again."
"What? How Kyle threw glass at you?"
The brunette nodded, leaning in his bed to stare at Kenny better.
"Yeah. How'd she seem?"
Kenny gave another shrug, "Pale, I guess. And after that she ran out the door, like her panties were in a twist or something."
Without another word Eric began to climb out of the bed and onto his own two feet, trembling slightly at the fact that his legs are still asleep.
"Wait a minute! What are you doing?!" Kenny cursed, hopping to Eric's side to even him out with a firm arm.
"Making sure Haley doesn't do something stupid. Where the fuck is my phone?!"