Leslie & Andy
Things had seemed spooky as usual in the hotel upon entering when he did. If there was anything different, Andy wouldn't have noticed. He just had to grab his guitar, make sure there were no more snacks in the fridge, snag those free or not so free towels, and make it back outside, no big deal.
Only when he'd gotten back downstairs the lobby had come to life. It was like the Beetlejuice movie only the bug man never appeared or turned into a snake to laugh at him. There was just throwing, of everything.
Dropping the towels and things in order to avoid the flying candlesticks, Andy yiped and ducked, tucked, and rolled--probably too excessive, but he didn't get hit. Haha! The victory roll was short lived because there were more candles, some that hit, and had been lit. "Owowowow ouch!" Wincing, he had moved to crawl back onto his feet and shut himself into the nearest closet. He could hear the objects flinging into door.
"Stop throwin' stuff! It's immature!" The ghosts or spooks didn't let up, and he began to panic. So fumbling into his pocket he did what sounded like logic and texted Leslie. Her cries from the hallway were heard easily, he was just hesitant to leave the closet.
He couldn't leave her alone to the flying objects, so he turned his guitar strap to his back, took a few deep breaths, and ran out with a very non-manly cry in the direction of Leslie's screams. "LESLIIEEE! Take cover!" He caught up to her easily, shielding her tiny body with his bulk, covering his face from a flying book. When did they get near a bookshelf?!? "We have to hide! These ghosts are pissed."