Johnny doesn't need to be told twice, but he can't really complain about being all but manhandled toward the door. It's very obvious now that Rashad is something - a little more adept than him, to put it mildly, and it's hard to argue with a powerful someone shoving him toward safety. He scrambles along, struggling to keep up, and rushes at the door, fully expecting it to be locked. The doors are always locked, in the shitty house.

To his immense surprise, it opens without any resistence. He doesn't spare a moment to question it; mouth of a gift horse and all. He hurls himself through, pulling Rashad along after him, letting the doors slam on their nightmarish art project assailants.

"Christ," he says, doubling over, taking a moment to catch his breath. They've come into a luxurious looking sitting room, a fireplace, some armchairs and some books - is that a liquor cabinet? Hell yes. They can afford a little detour.

"Sssso," he says, glancing a little surreptiously at Rashad as he makes his way to the alcohol. "That was... intense. What you did in there, I mean."