A blonde in festive, skimpy Christmas garb saunters over to the recliner, and with one long black boot tips the occupant full back.

His jaw drops open as the visual and kinetic impact land simultaneously.

She whips an open bottle of Talisker off her silver salver, upturning it in one smooth movement above his gaping maw. The sound of gurgling is heard.... and then humming emanates from the kitchen.

"Ketchup chaser, dope!" says the blonde, and yes, it is our own Bonka B. Bonka, having her way with another man as is her wont.

~S~