He stretches, yawns, and awakens. Hmmm...someone was sharing the quilts and there is an awful odor of burnt lemon.

They'll never get that odor out of here!

"A fogcutter, please" he calls to the barwench, "I think I'm still asleep. There simply can't be a gorgeous,leggy blond in a skimpy Santa outfit sitting there watching over me."

At least, he thinks, I wasn't robbed of my Virtue or Pearl of Great Price or my Innocence whilst I was snoozing. I don't mind sharing my quilt, but I'll be damned if I'll share more than that without my consent!

"Is it possible to get some breakfast, too? Perhaps an omelet?" he asks hesitantly.