Here's the layout of the apartment, just so we know what kind of space we're working with. They were late. Gary hated it when people were late. Well, now he did. Being late was more or less the reason he was forced to live on this plane for the rest of eternity. He had taken the day off from his call center job so he could show his lofty apartment to the potential roommate and, hopefully, add them to the lease. That was part of his punishment. He could never own real estate. He had to go to the end of the world renting a place to live from these lesser beings. And to keep this nice apartment he needed a roommate, so he had posted an ad online. This would be the third reply. The other two had looked interested, but were put off by the infernal aura Gary couldn't stop from broadcasting into the air. Luckily for him the people at the call center appeared immune to it. Gary sat in front of his roaring fireplace tapping his foot and listening to "The End" by The Doors emanating from the home theatre set against the opposite wall. The form he would be stuck in was that of a thin man with tanned skin and bushy black hair. The kind dark brown eyes behind the purely decorative glasses were also just for show. "They're late"