“You want to live here, at the hotel,” repeated Mark.
“Yes,” affirmed Catrina.
“For free.”
“Also correct.”
“And you think I’m going to agree to this, why?”
“Because the hotel has, at best, five guests a month, and yet contains over eighty habitable rooms. Because there was an… incident at my apartment, and it is no longer a fit place for a person to live. And because despite your hideous, patchwork exterior, you’ve explained to me that you do, in fact, have a human heart, and therefore my situation must, surely, stir it.”
“Hmm…”
“Also, Thor is kind of useless and you’re extremely lazy and we’re down at least one porter and you know damn well that without me this place would have even fewer guests than it does now and that would be bad for everyone.”
“Well, that is quite the compelling argument, Catrina,” said Mark, “and my heart is most certainly stirred, as well as shaken, but I’m going to have to say no.”
“Aw, come on, dude!”
“Look, Catrina, I can’t just let people start crashing here without paying whenever they feel like it. I am trying to run a business, after all.
“Despite all those vaunted efforts of yours,” he continued, “the hospitality industry is pretty much obsolete. The only reason this place is turning any kind of a profit is because Holiday Inn went out of business two years ago and the lease holder on the building had already exploded back in… in…”
“No, please. Go on.”
Catrina crossed her arms and glared at Mark. Mark closed his eyes and groaned.
“Take your pick of the top floor.”
“Thank you, Mark,” lilted Catrina, before adding, “I moved my shit in an hour ago,” and skipping onto the elevator.
“Don’t tell anyone! Word gets out and I’m gonna have all manner of degenerates asking to stay here.”
Immediately upon the above sentence’s conclusion, Thor came barreling into the lobby, covered in blood and dirt and carrying a duffel bag.
“Holy shit, Mark, man…” explained Thor breathlessly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” said Mark.
“Dude, holy crap, the fucking… the fucking Hollow Men took my apartment complex. A god damned sinkhole, man, took the whole thing! I woke up underground! Underfuckingground! In the Hollow fucking Earth! They’ve got a fucking sun down there, man! Jesus, shit, Mark, I had to… had to fight my way out, they were… they were everywhere, man, holy shit, and…”
“You need a place to stay.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, there was a lot more murdering and burrowing and whatever, but, yeah, that’s… that’s pretty much why I’m here.”
Mark rubbed his forehead. “Fourth floor.”
“Really? That’s it? No arguing? I came up with a list on the way over. It’s very compelling.”
“Just go, Thor.”
Thor walked to the computer behind the counter and quickly created a keycard for room 401. As he pocketed the card and hustled to the elevator, the ringing in his ears—caused by the Hollow Men’s borers—grew higher in pitch, drowning out the lecture Mark appeared to be giving.
Not that Thor particularly cared what Mark was going on about, anyway. He assumed it was about owing him one, or no free rides, or humping the toaster oven or something. Thor really didn’t have the patience for it right now. He stepped from the elevator and began walking down the hall, desperately in need of a shower, a nap, and everything in the mini-bar.
Instead, Thor opened the door to room 401 and found a naked Catrina standing before him.
“That’ll work, too,” he thought.
“Holy fuck,” exclaimed Catrina, grabbing a comforter and covering up her naughty parts.
Thor frowned.
“Jesus fuck, Thor, close the god damned door!” the naked girl shouted.
“Why would I want to close the door?” reasoned the fully-clothed former god, laughing.
Catrina threw a remote control at Thor’s head.
“Come on, there’s no need for hostilities.”
Catrina threw a lamp at Thor’s head.
“Christ, Catrina,” he said, ducking swiftly. “I didn’t know you were in here, OK? Why are you in here, anyway?”
“Because you befouled my apartment, jackass,” she said. “I called a cleaning service and two of them died. Then the landlord found out and now the building’s being razed. I needed a new place to live, cheap, since my security deposit’s being put towards the funerals.”
She adjusted the comforter.
“I was about to take a shower and try and wash that nightmare away. Right up until some mannerless tool barged in on me and made me rethink my need to deadbolt the door, that is.”
She adjusted the comforter again.
“Why the hell are you here?” asked Catrina. “You look like shit.”
“My apartment now has a lovely view of the Hollow Earth. I needed a place to crash.”
“Well, why the fuck didn’t you knock?”
“Why the fuck would I knock? This floor’s been empty since I started working here. Besides, I’m not exactly thinking about my fucking manners, OK? I woke up in a hole, Catrina, a fucking hole, and I had to kill so, so many fucking Hollow Men… I think I might’ve committed genocide, honestly. And then… then I had to ride a giant mole… to… to the surface…”
Thor drifted off mid-sentence and his eyes glazed over. He wobbled slightly.
“Yeah, OK, I got it. Sucks to be you. 401 is mine, OK? Go get yourself another room.”
She adjusted the comforter again. It was proving to be less comfortable than its name implied.
“Down the hall or something,” she continued, “so we don’t share any plumbing.”
Catrina realized Thor wasn’t paying attention. He was staring at the mirror to the right of her. Apparently, the last readjustment of the comforter had readjusted a little too much.
“Fuck!” she said. “You fucking son of a bitch!”
Catrina grabbed the coffee maker with both hands and threw it at Thor’s head, completely losing control of the comforter in the process.
Thor fell to the ground with a smile on his face.