And this is my house plant, E was saying, Which pretty much wraps up our tour of the living room. He put the small potted plant back down on the end table by the couch, on top of a face-down picture frame he hadn’t mentioned during his tour. He gave me a glare for bringing it up, but I was just being genuinely thorough about the room’s details.
Before E could say anything about that there was a pounding at the door. Crap, he muttered, and scrambled around the couch to hide all his gaming consoles. It’s the gang, he said in explanation. They’re the only ones who come by unless rent is due, and the landlord doesn’t pound away like that.
Once the game consoles were concealed, Ean darted to the door. A loose floorboard he had also forgotten to mention squeaked as he crossed the room. E paused at the door and laughed, despite knowing who he was going to be dealing with in a moment.
Nice try to cover it up, Narrator. He gestured at you. But I bet The Audience is smart enough to figure out which of the things you brought up that I didn’t is actually important.
Then he turned to the door, steeled himself, and opened it.