Holy shit this was the coolest setup in the world.
Judging from the exterior of the home, he had to admit, his hopes hadn't been too high. The place looked like it was falling apart, more of a haunted house than a space many people paid to occupy, and he found himself already wanting to go back into the car and leave. Raj was a weird guy, after all. There was no telling if this was some kind of strange reality documentary he was filming about a serial killer. Scott was already bitching and moaning about it before they even knocked on the door, and Booker had to internally agree even if he vocalized only his positivity-- this place gave him the creeps.
But Raj's smiling face was there at the door, and it was clear just from peering inside that it was under heavy repair. While he'd never pay to live here, he supposed it wasn't so bad upon entering. Sure, there were a couple of buckets here or there used to collect leaks when a storm happened by, but otherwise it seemed to be in pretty decent shape. Naturally sirens started to go off in his head again when they were led to the basement, but in spite of Scott's snide comments, he discovered it was better than he expected.
Sure, the recliners looked like they'd been obtained from Craigslist (though cleaned thoroughly, fortunately), and the projection screen on the wall had a few scratches on it, but otherwise it looked like a perfect at-home theater. Scott and Blaise were even allowed to smoke their weed here. And there were snacks, it seemed like; he spotted a couple of trays of homemade finger foods on a table near the front row of recliners, waiting to be devoured whole.
"Hell yes," he said, turning around to look at his friends for their approval. "Too bad the twins had to miss out. They'd probably love this--" He started, unaware that one of their faces was already peering around one of the front seat recliners to take a long look at them.