Bang. Your last night in paradise comes crashing down.
Is it a car crash? Or was someone shot? It doesn’t happen often on your side of paradise, but it’s possible. It happens on other sides. Maybe the world’s ending. Maybe it’s all already over.
You have the music up—some EDM jam with a nondescript female vocalist. By the sounds she’s making, she’s enjoying whatever’s being done to her within the privacy of those woodgrain Klipsch towers. You’re moving to the waves of her ecstasy while riding your own. Every night’s a party, and what they say is completely wrong: it is still popping, especially if it happens every night.
Wood splinters. Cheap hinges burst. Someone in the kitchen screams and spills half-cooked ramen noodles down the front of the dishwasher. Broth seeps in through the cra
