TB returns after nearly two weeks of trying out everyone's Zoom rooms, (now that IS promiscuous), and sampling all the single malts. She rolls back in for some downtime, singing "Leave us our Glens", somewhat out of tune, and narrowly missing a squirm of squidlets lying on the floor and a big bat flying overhead. She slumps on the sofa and tucks into a pile of crumpets before nodding off and snoring loudly.