The story with the ghetto blaster

But it's even more colorful ... 

One evening Dave and I went home from the KunstPark on the Night Tram 19 and came across this totally drunk 16-year-old dance student who told us that his clothes were borrowed. We had to take care of this poor fellow, so we dragged him back to our place. 

Dave had consumed a bit of alcohol and made ​​the suggestion to hang out on our roof to enjoy the starry sky. He then grabbed our kitchen boom box and headed for the kitchen window and the fire escape. But just before climbing the roof the boom box flew 3 floors down in the courtyard. Guiltily he brought the total destroyed parts back up. Enough one might think. Well...

Dave decided staging 'the death of the ghetto blaster' in our hallway with red emulsion paint. I could not talk him out of it and the super sweet, innocent 16-year-old boy was slightly irritated by this spectacle. 

In a few seconds the color was distributed in our entire hallway. Dave reached into the color and smeared it all over our white walls, ran into Flo's room, who was rudely awakened by Dave bloodred hands. His paramedics mind first instinct was Dave might need first aid. But far missed - Dave spread more red color on Flo's rug before turning back to the hallway, proud of his piece of art.

Susi was awake and looked as stunned as Flo to process what just happening before her sleepy eyes. Flo screamed at Dave, until he came to his senses, and immediately fell into a maniac starting with cleaning this 'art' up. Susi used her pants to scrub the floor. We all helped clean up the mess to reduce the damage. Totally exhausted we went all in our beds in the early morning hours.

The traces of this action will remain anchored forever in the apartment.