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(( Odds: He falls on her || Evens: Tells her off and gets his own damn self in that lazy a** ))

"What?" He grinned cheekily; he couldn't help it! "Oh bite me!" He rolled his eyes at her jab; he wasn't fat! He had muscle to him, come on! With her help he got back in the window, but at the last moment he tripped, all of his fat landing right on the poor ghoul. And, because he was so fat, he didn't make an attempt to get off of her right away. You know, too much effort to move and all that.

Eventually he did, rolling off of her before her massive boilfriend broke down his door.

He still didn't answer her though.

There was a solid moment where she didn't understand what was happening. She was pulling him up from the window, and then suddenly, everything tilted and whirled and she found herself on the floor before she understood what had brought her there.

And then recognition, and a sense of deja vu, made a blood curling scream wrench forth from her mouth before she could think better of it.

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

She should have yelled fire. Statistics say more people are prone to helping someone who is screaming fire, than a woman screaming rape. Facts.

And thus ends the tale of "How Freya stole Mac's room."