"No!"

"Come on...."

"Forget it!"

"Please..."

"I can't believe I even let you talk me into coming up here."

"Look, just once. One little time, it's all I'm asking, Chief."

Blair rolled his eyes, finally swayed by the fervid tone in his best friend's voice. "Oh, for crying out loud! You're so pathetic, Jim; I don't believe you, sometimes."

If anything, Jim managed to dial-up his 'hopeful-puppy-dog-look' even further. Blair knew then - he was a triple grade 'A' sucker.

Now Jim was going to use this trick on him over and over again.

He took a deep breath. Blair waited until the hand holding the screwdriver was steady before giving the nod. Slowly he let himself be lowered over the side of the roof until he was eye to upside-down-eye with the small, gray dish attached to the side of the apartment building they lived in.

Carefully avoiding the dizzying view of the sidewalk below, he began the adjustments. "This is the last time I ever admit I know how to work on one of these things," he muttered, knowing full well Jim could hear every word. "You just better not let go, man. If I die because you couldn't get a stupid boxing match on TV, Naomi is going to kick your butt all the way to my funeral."

The End

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