[And so Integra awakes in a cold corridor, a floor below hers, still clothed in her pyjamas.]
...oh Hell. These are certainly not my quarters or my bed.
[Flicks of a lighter, puffs. Of course, she carries a cigar and light even in her bedclothes!]
How did I get down here? If this isn't part of a curse, heads will roll for this outrage. [A
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