[ WP ] Four men , completely unrelated and different from each other , are hiding in a cramped closet for various reasons . What the hell are those reasons that they are now hiding in a closet with three other strangers ?

`` Well *excuuuuuse* me for trying to breathe, Maurice.'' I hiss, or do my best impression of hissing given that his elbow is rammed into my cheek like a snapshot from a WWE match. 
 
 `` Sarcasm helps nobody....uh...'' 
 
 `` Kevin.'' 
 
 `` Right. Kevin.'' 
 
 He looks dumb in that suit. None of us say anything. 
 
 George tries to de-contort himself from the crushing embrace of my back and the shelf stocked with a myriad of cleaning agents and Glad bags. 
 
 `` George - do n't fucking try it.'' Barks Mark from the floor, his sunglasses awkwardly tangled in his shoulder-length blonde hair, `` You got us here.'' 
 
 And he's right. It was George. George and his stupid, shaved head. George and his stupid mouth. George and his stupid..... 
 
 And his stupid..... 
 
 `` George?'' I ask, beginning to turn and promptly stopping as I am reminded that Maurice's tuxedo-clad elbow is still rammed into the side of my face. 
 
 `` Yeah, Maurice?'' 
 
 `` I'm Kevin, George.'' 
 
 `` Sorry.'' 
 
 `` Anyways - which are you?'' 
 
 `` Huh?'' 
 
 `` You're FBI?'' 
 
 `` No, that's me.'' 
 
 `` Shut **UP**, Maurice. Your suit looks stupid.'' 
 
 `` It does not.'' 
 
 `` Sorry, Maurice - it does.'' 
 
 `` Fuck off, Mark.'' 
 
 `` Everybody shove it - I'm trying to talk to George.'' 
 
 They shove it. 
 
 `` Which are you, George?'' 
 
 `` Homeland.'' 
 
 `` Right.'' 
 
 `` And you're...?'' 
 
 `` Me?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, Kevin, which are you?'' 
 
 `` I'm nothing. For the last time I'm the waiter. I work catering.'' 
 
 `` Suuuuure. The'waiter'. Convenient.'' 
 
 `` I swear to **GOD**, Maurice... if you say one more word.'' 
 
 His elbow presses harder into my face. 
 
 `` So....George is Homeland.'' 
 
 `` Mhm.'' 
 
 `` And Maurice is FBI.'' 
 
 `` You bet.'' 
 
 God he looks stupid in that suit. 
 
 `` That makes Mark..?'' 
 
 `` CIA.'' 
 
 `` And makes you KGB.'' 
 
 `` No it does n't, Maurice.'' 
 
 `` Sorry, kid - but I'm with Maurice here.'' 
 
 `` Mark - you turncoat.'' 
 
 He shrugs apologetically. 
 I try to step on his face. 
 The elbow presses harder. 
 
 `` So why do I have to be KGB, again? Why ca n't I just be the goddamned waiter?'' 
 
 `` Because we have intel that a KGB agent was infiltrating the event to make an attempt on the presidents life.'' 
 
 `` Right - so it's clearly the Mexican waiter.'' 
 
 `` Watch the lip, Kevin.'' 
 
 `` I'm just saying - I have done nothing to-'' 
 
 `` Except for attempt to serve the President a poisoned cocktail.'' 
 
 `` Oh for the last time, it was n't poisoned. You did n't even test it.'' 
 
 `` I know the look of a man who is about to poison another man.'' 
 
 `` No - you do n't, Maurice. Nobody can possibly know that look.'' 
 
 `` Well I do.'' 
 
 `` And your suit's stupid.'' 
 
 `` The two of you, stop!'' 
 
 `` Fuck you, George. What kind of idiot decides to interrogate a suspect in a janitorial closet?! Also what architect soundproofs a fucking janitorial closet?'' 
 
 
 `` What kind of idiot decides to tackle the suspect in the middle of the first waltz, Mark?'' 
 
 `` A professional.'' 
 
 `` A fucking idiot.'' 
 
 They all shut up as the door is heaved open, the dim, waning light of the closet is flooded with excruciatingly white luminescence. 
 
 **BANG** 
 
 **BANG** 
 
 **BANG** 
 
 `` Agent Abromavich, in trouble as usual - I see.'' 
 
 Agent Aliyev. 
 With his stupid face. 
 And his stupid suit. 
 Not as bad as Maurice's....but still stupid. 
 
 `` I had it under control.'' 
 
 `` Clearly.'' He says, shaking the blood from his pristine ( and stupid ) shoes. 
 
 `` I **did** soundproof it for exac-'' 
 
 `` Luck, agent Abromavich.'' 
 
 `` We should be leaving.'' 
 
 We do - sprinting down the marble hallways, the paintings worth more than my life savings blitzing by my peripheral vision. I get one last glance back at Mark, Kevin and Maurice. 
 
 I take it back. 
 Maurice's suit does n't look **that** stupid. 
 Red suits him. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

