“I am so dead,” Greg whispered.

“Before you insist on killing Greg and the rest of us, can I ask a question?” Colin asked.

The man from the casino looked slightly confused by this request. “Make it quick,” he breathed.

“Well, it’s quite simple really. Who are you?” Colin asked.

The man narrowed his eyes, walked slowly across the room and then turned around. “My name is Jacques. I have a high profile amongst the real estate industry in Melbourne, based on rumours and lies, most of which I have started. However, I have a rampant gambling addiction, and the money Mr Proops won is all I have. Therefore, I need it back.”

“Dude, you are such a loser,” Greg sarced, feeling slightly more confident and moving out from his position behind Colin.

“So really, you want the money back to save face,” Ryan stated.

Jacques nodded.

“Well you could have just asked instead of kicking the shit out of me,” Greg hissed.

“Fine, then. Will you please give me my money back,” Jacques growled.

“Hmm, let me think about that for a moment,” Greg smiled. “No.”

“Give it to me” Jacques hissed, lunging toward Greg. Greg noticed Jacques had produced a knife and dived in the opposite direction.

Jacques and Greg began to scuffle on the carpet. Brad and Wayne leapt up to intervene but were grabbed by the heavies. Chip tried to help Wayne but was flung to the floor. Drew, Ryan and Colin were about to help when a gunshot brought sudden silence to the room.

“YOU TRICKED ME,” yelled a familiar voice.

“Fuck, it’s Ritza,” Drew squealed, looking petrified.

“Where’s my drugs? Did you keep them for yourself?” Ritza hissed, getting closer to Drew with the gun.

“He never had any drugs,” Ryan spat, talking for Drew who was too freaked out to speak.

“Bullshit, I don’t believe you,” Ritza babbled.

“Who the hell are you?” Jacques panted from where he was straddling Greg on the floor.

“Ritza Crispin. Who are you?” Ritza snapped.

“Jacques. I’m in real estate,” Jacques said meekly.

“Fuck, now I’ve got extras to deal with,” Ritza hissed before instructing her heavies to bundle all of them into a waiting van.

“You know, one day we’ll look back and laugh about this,” Drew announced, trying to lighten the mood as they sat in darkness in the back of a van.

“Oh yeah Drew. That’s if we’re not killed anytime soon,” Ryan spat.

“Can you lot stop bickering,” Jacques hissed.

“Well if you hadn’t been so unsporting over the whole money thing, we would have been gone and none of this would have happened,” Greg scorned.

“I need that money,” Jacques snapped.

“Didn’t I see you at Mardi Gras?” one of Jacques’ heavies asked, looking at Wayne.

Wayne let out a peep.

“You’re gay?” the other heavy asked his friend.

“Yeah, I’ve wanted to tell you,” the other heavy sighed.

“Oh god,” Drew sobbed.

A short while later, the van stopped and the back was opened. The hostages were ushered into a posh-looking house and forced into a back room.

“Well this is just wonderful,” Chip scowled.

“Yeah, just think, they’ll be back to kill us sometime soon,” Brad sarced.

“I blame Drew,” Wayne huffed.

“Why me?” Drew whined.

“If you’d gone and got real drugs like she asked…” Wayne grumbled.

“Listen to yourself. This isn’t Drew’s fault,” Ryan announced.

“Thanks, buddy,” Drew breathed.

“I mean, he can’t help being stupid and irresponsible, it’s in his nature,” Ryan stated.

“Hey!” Drew gasped.

“Look, we’re just going to have to sit tight and try and negotiate with the mad woman when she returns,” Colin said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, that’ll be fun,” Jacques grumbled.

“Any better ideas?” Greg hissed, glaring at Jacques.

Jacques shrugged.

“So we sit. And wait,” Brad sighed.