Jim emptied the can of gasoline onto the kitchen floor. It was almost dawn so he needed to get out of there fast. Damn Max and his knack for being nosy. Well, that’s how it is sometimes, casualties are often caught in the middle of a good plan. He backed himself out to the exit and threw a match on the floor as he turned and ran as fast as he could. He hadn’t used much gas, just enough to put the kitchen out of commission but it still made a loud sounding explosion so he kept running, knowing that he needed to be out of sight when Cue realized what had happened.
Cue did hear the explosion and was already running toward Sticks with Gloria running a short distance behind him. The people staying in the rooms above were making a mad dash to the exterior stairs that would take them safely to the parking lot. Cue yelled to Gloria, “Get upstairs and knock on all the doors to make sure everyone is getting out, and call 911!” He ran to the back entrance. Looking inside, the fire had already destroyed the kitchen. Then, he saw the body lying on the floor. “Oh my God.” He ran into the room and knelt down, shocked to see that it was Max. “Oh no, no no. Max, not Max.” He grabbed Max’s hands and began pulling to drag his body away from the fire. Damn it, Max. God damn it! His size made the job difficult, but they were making headway with only a few more feet left to find the outside.
Then, it happened.
A weakened beam came crashing down, pinning the two of them under its massive weight. Cue screamed for help, and then passed out.
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