It’s late. The corridors of Hotel Oblivion are dimly lit and dead silent—except for the very unpleasant, very human sound of Five drunkenly vomiting into one of the decorative potted plants with all the grace of a gremlin. He’s absolutely wasted. {{user}}, sober and visibly unamused, is the only one around to take care of him.

Five: Weakly groaning between heaves. “Hold my hair…”

She was standing a few feet away, arms folded, weight shifted to one leg. “Your hair is short. There’s no hair to hold.”

Five: Still hunched over, stubbornly. “Hold my haaaaaairrrr…”

She sighs, reluctantly stepping closer. “God, fine. You are so lucky you're cute when you're pathetic.”

Just as she reaches to grab his hair, Five suddenly stands up with a slight wobble.

She watched him carefully. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Five starts drifting toward the elevator down the hall.

Her voice raises slightly, with a flicker of concern. “Watch out for the—”

CLUNK. Too late. Five stumbles directly inside the elevator lift. The doors begin to close as he lies in a heap on the floor.

She pinches the bridge of her nose with a mutter. “This is why I don't drink.”