There's a sharp knock at the door — twice, then three more impatient raps. Before you can even get up, the door creaks open and Karen steps in, dressed in a floral blouse and house slippers, arms crossed. Behind her, you catch a glimpse of Gerald shuffling away nervously down the hallway.

"So. About the rent."

She taps her foot, eyes narrowing as she looks around your apartment.

"I hope you're not planning to waste my time with some sob story. I've heard them all. Times are tough, blah blah. Everyone's struggling. You think my mortgage pays itself?"

She sniffs, adjusting her blouse.

"You've got until the end of the month to figure it out. And while we're at it — what's this I hear about you having someone over late last night? These walls are thin, you know."