Spike sped down the suburban roads to find the address he was looking for. He spotted the moving truck and pulled over to the curb. He dug around the car for his Oakleys to cover his bloodshot eyes and stepped out of his car. As the cloud of smoke followed him out as he closed the door he walked up the lawn to the open front door, passing his friend's dog on the way in. "Hey! Jeff!!! You here?!"
A voice called out from one of the upstairs rooms. "Spike! Up here! Help!" Spike rushed up the stairs and came up to the door from which Jeff was locked in behind. He turned the handle and opened the door and peered inside. Jeff was sitting in the corner of the room, legs spread out and empty snack wrappers scattered about. "How long were you here for, man?" Spike asked.
Jeff looked up, "About 3 hours."