Good thing that drill didn't go right through Richie (and/or Ava didn't hand it over like a pair of scissors with the blade out), so they were a-okay. "Got it," he nodded, taking the weapon (this thing could poke an eye out if you weren't careful) and making quick work of finishing off the bed legs and then getting the desk next.
Zip, zip, those desk legs weren't going anywhere either. "Not bad at all," Richie decided, silencing the drill and giving their work a bit of proud consideration. "Alright, let's get the fuck out of here..."
He was already thinking of excuses if someone walked in though, just in case. With power tools and a chick in a suit and Richie wearing one of those ugly sweaters, alone in a bedroom moving furniture - hey man, you don't know my life!