"Coincidence," Sean croaked. "Annoying, mildly traumatic coincidence."
"We'll see," Mr. Lee replied darkly.
Paul clapped his hands together like a man about to give a TED Talk on surviving awkward elevator entrapment. "Alright, gentlemen. It's just an hour, right? Let's make this the easiest, quickest, least murder-y sixty minutes of our lives."
Mr. Lee squinted at him, suspicious. "And what exactly does that mean? Because last time you said something like that, we ended up playing truth or dare with your grandmother, and I still haven't recovered from her 'dare'."
"It means," Paul announced dramatically, "we're not going to stand here in grim silence like extras in a horror film. We're gonna do something. Anything."
Sean perked up. "Actually… yeah. Good idea. Silence is for serial killers and people in line at the DMV."
Paul grinned, emboldened. "Okay, okay. Let's… sing a song."
