“I can’t take much more of this,” Wayne hissed.

“Got a better idea?” Brad sighed.

“Yeah: I’m getting outta here before the psycho bitch comes back to kill me,” Wayne announced and made his way over to the window.

“It’s locked, we checked, remember?” Ryan sighed.

Wayne looked the window over and then turned back to the others. “Can I borrow your knife?” he asked Jacques.

Jacques reluctantly handed the knife over and Wayne slid the blade between the window and the frame. He gave it a quick jerk, there was a small clunk and then Wayne quietly opened the window.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Chip asked as Wayne handed Jacques his knife back.

“Never you mind,” Wayne replied and led the way out of the window.

Chip, Brad, Colin, Greg, Drew, Ryan, Jacques and his heavies followed. As the last heavy tumbled through, Ritza burst in and screamed.

“SHIT,” was the unanimous cry as everyone sprinted down the large backyard and hurled themselves over the fence.

They ended up in a darkened backyard and gingerly looked around as they wandered toward the next fence. They were halfway across when there was an unmistakable growling noise.

“ROTTWEILER.” Brad yelled and bolted past the others. Everyone looked back and saw the snarling, rabid dog and followed Brad’s lead.

As the group bounded over the next fence they were greeted by the confused look of a large family having a BBQ.

“What the…” gasped one man.

“Hi, we’re a group of street performers…just passing through the neighbourhood,” Greg perked.

Ryan and Colin looked at each other, Colin began doing his dinosaur and Ryan did his gazelle. Wayne and Brad began to belt out a song and Chip and Drew danced. Jacques began to ramble off poetry and the heavies faked a fight.

As they leapt the next fence the family they’d interrupted gave them raucous applause, but they could hear the Rottweiler going mental and knew Ritza wasn’t far behind.

Wayne, who was over first, was in so much panic that he didn’t have time to warn the others what would greet them on the next side. A large swimming pool. They fell like dominos.

“Oh this is just great,” Greg hissed.

“Now I’m wet, pissed off and in fear for my life,” Ryan spat.

“Come on, we can’t hang around,” Brad ordered and made his way toward the gate.

The others followed and they ended up in the street. Ten soggy men running like mad and not knowing where the hell they were going.

They eventually found a main road and a bus stop. Then they fell to the ground exhausted.

“It’s moments like this I’d like healthy lungs,” Greg hacked.

“How do you think I feel?” Drew panted.

“Don’t suppose you know when the bus comes?” Ryan asked Jacques.

“Not a clue,” Jacques groaned.

Several minutes later a bus turned up and, dripping wet, the ten men piled on.

“It’s not raining, is it?” asked the bus driver, confused.

“We fell into a pool,” Colin sighed.

“All of you?” the bus driver gasped.

“It’s a long story,” Wayne nodded.

They stayed on the bus until it arrived just around the corner from the hotel. Wearily, they departed and watched it chug off.

Greg walked over to Jacques, pulled off his shoe and produced a wad of cash.

“Here,” Greg sighed.

“Are you serious?” Jacques gasped.

“Yes, take it before I change my mind,” Greg grunted.

Jacques took the money. “Thank you,” he uttered and then led his men off.

“Greg, that was a kind gesture,” Ryan said with false shock.

“Let’s not talk about it,” Greg breathed.

“I say we get whatever we left in the hotel and get the hell outta here,” Chip suggested.

Everyone agreed.

It didn’t take long as they had accumulated few possessions, and they were on their way to the airport and hopefully a flight home to the US.