Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Enzo and Vini had plenty of time to reflect on the stupidity of walking 19 kilometers in the middle of the night, completely alone and carrying a box full of suspicious rubbish. At some occasions, the moon was the only light source available. At that time, the police decreased their rounds through the streets and the flow of vehicles dropped drastically, some neighborhoods turned into ghost towns. Vini did a quick mental count and totaled three cars that crossed his way. At one point, the two were walking along the famous and controversial Tim Maia suspended bike lane on Niemeyer Avenue, known for its beautiful views, but also for the many cases of corruption and three accidents in the years of 2016 and 2019 that killed 3 people.

- Do you know how to shoot? - Enzo asked, pretending to have a target in his sights.

- No, I really don't. - Vini replied with a dry smile, but soon warned him. - And stop fooling that gun around! You might kill a freaking bird!

- Oh, damn, I didn't know you were going to become those insufferable lame people on TV who complain about guns...

- When did I ever say that? I just don't want you to play gunslinger like a child! It's not a toy and it can only be used under adult supervision.

- Ha, ha, ha. Smartass. And considering that adults are the ones who fuck with that crap.

- I'm just saying that you shouldn't be posing. In fact, you should have returned the pistol to Suzane when you had the chance.

- And why would I do that at all? Why does Suzanne have a gun anyway?

- Didn't you hear? It belongs to her cuckoo husband, Pacifier's father. All this stuff here is his'.

- Oh, of a sure thing! She's condescending.

- Complacent.

- What is it?

- It's not "condescending", it's "complacent".

- Stop being Mrs. Trunchbull.

- Who is that?

- Matilda's teacher.

- The teacher was Miss Honey, you idiot. You don't even remember the correct reference. You should eat more cheese.

- I had a very stressful day, Vini.

- And mine isn't even done yet.

- You better keep your mouth shut. After all, I still have the gun.

- You can't shoot either, you silly man.

- No argument there.

- Don't be an jerk!

- Hey, you're not my supervisor! And furthermore, what I hit is a profit. What could go wrong and how hard can it be?

Top Gear fans have heard that question countless times and are well aware that something bad typically happens because of that innocent question. And, oh well, here it would be no different. Enzo pulled the shotgun for the first and only time that night. The gun ricocheted off Enzo like a racehorse as he heard the starting shot and a huge pop came out of the thick barrel of the Beretta. To complete the whole mess, Vini heard a sound of breaking glass a few feet away. Whatever Enzo had hit, it shattered, like an expensive vase. It was an indication that, for a change, Enzo had done something idiotic.

- Run, Enzo! Run, Enzo!

- Holy shit! We're screwed.

- You're an immense imbecile! You're an asshole! If we don't die, I'll kill you!

The two of them started trotting with the box in their hands down the steep Niemayer Avenue. Fortunately, the counter flow was on a slope, which helped them to escape, but was bad for their knees. Gravity mistreated them in several different ways.

A few kilometers later, they finally returned to civilization. The São Conrado neighborhood shares one of the most dangerous areas of the capital, the Rocinha slum, the largest of its kind in Rio de Janeiro, one of many subnormal settlements of houses stuck together on the hillside and dominated by criminal gangs for decades. Currently, the "Comando Vermelho" controls the local businesses and traffic. Surprisingly, or not, it was the first sign of human life since the beginning of the return walk to Lake. Loud music, thumping noises, colored lights, and occasional gunshots echoed in the quiet neighborhood next door, São Conrado.

- Holy shit. - Enzo said. - I tell you, Vini, if Lake turns into this shit, I'm out of there the next day.

- I think the folks here have become quite used to it. Is it bad? Yes, but what can be done?

- Sell the damn apartments and move the shit out as quickly as possible. Like that Amityville family did.

- Are you really comparing gangs that kill and torture people with those phony ass ghost stories? You are bullshitting me, Enzo!

- What the hell do you mean? It really happened!

- It is true, just like my right buttock! This is just another one of those fantastical ghost Hollywood stories to bring idiots like us to the movies.

- I can't believe you don't believe it.

- I can't believe that you believe the fact that I don't believe that you believe.

- I don't believe that... Wait, what? You've lost me.

- I stand corrected.

- But you don't really believe in ghosts?

- No way in hell! Only fools believe in ghosts that kill people. I mean, are you shitting me?

- So, in other words, you think we just die and that's it? For you it's just "bye-bye, Miss American Pie?"

- I didn't say that... Whatever the hell that was.

Unfortunately for Vini, the night was still long, way too long, and so was the way back home. After going through the Rocinha and São Conrado neighborhoods, there still remained the Joá neighborhood and its complex of tunnels, bridges and viaducts connecting the South Zone with Barra da Tijuca, the West Zone. And, surprisingly, considering one of the largest cities in South America, Joá was the only way of connection for vehicles. The road section was not very large, only 2 lanes and a small gap on the left, but quite large enough for Enzo and Vini to continue their long walk, that was already coming to an end.