"In my apartment? I was there first. In the wall? They were there first." And she got stuck in there for several hours trying to get them out, and then eventually gave up and just sealed them all in there. Fuck 'em. If they wanted to stay in the wall they could rot in there; see if she gave a shit so long as the smell didn't get through the seams.

She hesitantly moves away from the wood pile, mentally rifling through the options: zombie, monster, maybe a cute little bunny rabbit that would scare the shit out of them and then make them feel like idiots for getting all worked up. She picks up a plank, ready to swing it and take something's head clean off.

She glances down at her shoes. They aren't a pair she'd want to run in, but they're already covered in gore, so as with so many things in her life: eh, fuck it. "They're a loss anyway."