"Oh s**t, no. No. No! No!" my cries grow louder with each new item the dragon sets on fire. I'm sitting in a house made from kindling, but I'm more worried about how upset Finn will be at the discovery our tree is gone. My thoughts are no longer rational.
"You mother f'er." I shake my fist in frustration at the TV as the dragon flies off to torment other fictional game characters. It's official, I've gone crazy. I can never tell anyone I spent my Thursday night yelling at mythical dragons in a game where I'm dressed like Maid Marian.
"Aspen. Aspen!" My door handle jiggles, but the lock doesn't give. "Aspen, are you okay?"
Finn's voice is muffled, but I pick up the frantic element in it through the thick wooden door. s**t.
The handle jerks again. "Open the door."
"I'm coming!" I try to
