Aaron tries get them to leave

Written by Reset

"We're going to phib our way out of this," Aaron replied. "We just got to play it cool. I'm going to sneak back in first - get out the hero getup for a second. Turn off the lights at the front porch." Running with quiet steps, Aaron then rounded the house and came in through the dim front entrance.

Entering the house, Hank met him in the living room, looking uncertain. "So what are you going to tell them?" he asked, "be careful - I'd rather not have to deal with the police."

Throwing off the hero outfit, Aaron began to explain his plan to Hank as the two of them walked upstairs, where Aaron changed into a pair of loose jeans and normal black t-shirt. "It's easy," Aaron explained, "they seem to think we're murderers or human traffickers or something, and I think they based that off the fact that we have a prisoner." Aaron gestured towards his current body to indicate who he meant, "but they only saw the room at its most empty - with the cells and cameras. They don't know about any of the weapons or tools or none of that. So if I go out there as Ariana, I might be able to convince them nothing dangerous is going on, which will make them think they don't have any dirt. We can just claim its... a party floor!"

"But how do we brush off the cells?" Hank asked. "I don't go to a lot of parties, but most of them don't have prison cells."

"I'll figure that out as I go along," Aaron replied as he looked around for shoes. Unfortunately they only had the combat boots that he wore for the costume. He instead settled for a pair of flip flops. "So long as I play it casual, I think we'll be in the clear."

Satisfied with his appearance, Aaron proceeded to head back downstairs, and exited into the backyard, approaching the three figures. "Hey, what's up? My friend says you're bugging him," he called out in the woman's voice, "what's the damage, he paid you guys right?"

The black man kept his cool, but his two lackeys seemed a bit nervous at the sight of the woman. "Yo boss, she seems fine," he said, trying but failing to whisper. "Maybe we had the wrong impression?"

"Shut up man; they haven't killed her but that probably just means she's in on it. They have cages for crying out loud."

"Hey, can you speak to me?" Aaron called out, putting a hand to one hip and pointing to his chest. "I'm asking you all a question."

"We want more cash if you want us to keep quiet!" the leader asserted. "We know you all are up to no good down there. Why all hush hush?"

Aaron flicked his hair, trying to act nonchalant. "It's their party pad," he explained, "they're just rich teens who want to make their club. Don't you think you're over blowing this?"

"You're full of shit. The prison cells? What kind of party has cells," he replied, trying to make eye contact through the gloom. Aaron admitted, he was at a disadvantage here. He was lit by the lights that lined the walls of the house - they could see all his expression - if he made a single tell then the ruse might shatter. They had the dark on their side, he couldn't see how close they were to faltering.

Keeping his cool, he proceeded on. "People get drunk and high at parties, dumbass," he replied, shooting right back with the aggression. "Ever hear of a 'drunk tank'? They have those there so that anyone who passes out or can't head home has a place to lie down."

"Why the locks?"

"Because otherwise they'd just go back into the party, fuckface. It's like you aren't even thinking. Now, do you want me to call the cops and tell them my friend is being falsely extorted and blackmailed by three thugs?" He still couldn't see their faces, but he could bet they were backing down now. This body gave him all the confidence he needed to stare assholes like these down; he knew he could take as Arianna, so he didn't hold back on the insults.

After a moment of silence, the leader of the three finally gave an answer.