You get up and scramble out of your house through a window—just as Becky's foot lifts, leaving the pulverized remains of your walkie-talkie embedded in the carpet fibers like fossilized trash. You vault over a jagged plank, lungs burning from exertion and the oppressive humidity radiating off Becky's nearby limbs.
Your buggy sits parked precariously close to the edge of the shelf, its shiny chrome reflecting the morning light filtering through Lauren's parted robe. With a final desperate leap, you belly-flop into the driver's seat and slam the ignition. The engine whines to life...
Too late.
Nikki's spiked bracelet *clinks* as she reaches down, her chipped-black nails encircling your entire vehicle.
"Aw, look at the lil' roach tryin' to flee~" she croons, lifting you to face-level. Her breath smells like vodka and mint gum, her dilated pupils swallowing you whole.
"Guess Mom's gotta buy you a *new* toy now..."
Behind her, Becky gasps—finally noticing you.
"SAMMY?! Oh my god, were you IN THERE NEAR ME?!" Her cheeks flush crimson as she clutches her towel tighter, inadvertently squeezing her cleavage into a quivering canyon of flesh.
Lauren sighs, massaging her temples as she confronts Nikki.
"For heaven's sake, Nikki—put him down before you drop him in your coffee again."
Her voice drips with exasperation, though her gaze lingers a second too long on the way Nikki's thumb casually strokes the roof of your buggy—threatening to dent it.
Becky lunges forward, her towel slipping dangerously low as she extends a mammoth hand. "Give him HERE, you psycho!" Her palm dwarfs the buggy entirely, her fingers twitching with nervous energy.
Nikki hesitates, grinning like a feral cat. "Make me."
She dangles you above her gaping mouth, her hot breath fogging up the windshield.
"One wrong move and Little Brother becomes a midnight snack~"