Gol-ly. A fella goes to all the trouble to get a nice crackling fire going, a nice warm body snuggled up on the bench beside him (with plenty of room on the other side, I might add. Hint, hint.) and what happens but a fuzzy-faced hippie falls right out of the sky into his lap. Holding a bunch of cut glass in his hands, no less.

Whatever happened to that fella with all the 'lectrical parts? Maybe he can turn monkey-boy here into a loudspeaker for the stereo or something.

Anything I can get for you while I'm up, Ms Law-Foun-Tayne? Careful what you drink tho - seems like all anyone can handle in this place is one drink.