[ He can sense this fuckery from the kitchen, Howard. Grabbing the beer, and his coffee, because his hangover's still raging, and kicking it with him doesn't feel like a good idea right now. Coming back, he puts the beer on a box he's using as a temporary table, turns to sink into one of the armchairs. ]
Crepe, sweetheart, you don't know where he's been.
[ Action ]
Crepe, sweetheart, you don't know where he's been.