Try this 6.2

     With the armies of the enemy closing in, the two fighters, one named Pat, the other named Billy, are trapped in the top corner room of a painfully empty French brothel. Long have they sat here, Pat, an amputee, with his prosthetic arm in the hands of Billy; and Billy, a deaf mute, with his hearing aid in the hand of Pat. They have not spoken to one another since the incident last night that drove the entire brothel out of town headed underground to the bomb shelters.
      The enemy advances to the small section of Paris, where Pat and Billy await their fate. I certainly don't know what it is these men have done to provoke a foreign army with enough bombs to send the city into a charred apocalypse but, there was talk amongst the whores, before their evacuation, that Pat has known the enemie's general's wife in the carnal sense. Billy is none too pleased, for the ensuing capture that awaits them both, and the fact that coitus was already guaranteed to them the moment they touched down in Madame Derrida's famous den of pleasure.
      "Well, you can look at me all you want. I wasn't aware at the time that she was anyone's wife," Pat says, his hand resting along the cool glass of his brandy.
       Billy, infuriated, signs quickly, tossing Pat's arm on the floral print sheets of the large bed in the process. "Yes, of course she looked familiar, but what kind of general's wife is in a bar that late. And I don't think holding on to the prosthetic like that is a mature way of expressing your distaste," Pat replies, only half-imploring. More furious movements of arms and hands, fingers alight, as Billy replies in kind. "Now I'm glad you brought that up I really don't see the connection between her and the women here. I thought as men we could understand what's at stake when a woman like her is so openly sensual and wanting. Yes, we had this place planned at the end of the night but, she was an unforeseen obstacle that frankly had to be taken on; and for that I won't apologize. Anyway, you've used this all as some sort of hostage takeover of my arm. It's only fair that I confiscate your hearing apparatus." A hand alarmed. "Yes, aid, hearing aid."
     Pat stirs from the seat in the floor and paces to the window, the clouds of battle closing in. "You don't think they'll shoot us without some kind of trial, do you?" Billy signs dejectedly and quickly scoffs a there's-no-point gesture Pat's way. "Oh well you are just so theatrical. I'm able to take responsibility. I have, haven't I? It's that you think it's funny to take a man's arm because he got more than you did and didn't have to pay for half of it." Billy, as quick as a flash, punches Pat square in the face. "Now you're adding insult to injury...or injury to insult. I don't think that'll help matters. I'll give you back yours when you agree to give me back mine. It's only fair, and damn it, can you see the bigger picture here? By the way, do you think it'll be firing squad, or no?" Billy shrugs with disinterest.
      A voice outside bellows, "Gentlemen, we know you're cowering in fear like women in this establishment. We kindly demand that you make your way swiftly through the front lobby and out here where we can see you up close and personal."
     "Alright, lover. You ready for the end?" They exchange their stolen items. Pat puts his arm around Billy's shoulders, a tear visible on Billy's cheek. They walk toward the door. "Oh I know chap, I know...I should've have gone for the red-head at the end of the bar. She was certainly there alone, no less."