A Secluded Couch In The Arms Hotel Lobby, Laaaaate Friday Night

[thatsamilkshake]

"No, Mom, she didn't kick me out of the room." Dear God, there was not enough no in the universe for this call, at this hour of the night, with this much punch still wandering through Francine's system. "I just didn't want to keep her awake; it's late. No, of course it's not too late for you to call, especially on my birthday, I didn't mean that; we're just, I mean she's just tired. No, Mom, come on, you don't have to -- is that Muffins? What's she got in her mouth? It sounds like-- A what? Where would she get a-- Oh, a rubber duck..."

She so wasn't sober awake enough to deal with this. Francine slipped her shoes off and tucked her feet under her as she curled into the corner of the couch and tried not to yawn, or worse, nod off.

Why were the pillows on these couches so darn comfy? Not helping at all.

[Estaaaaaaaablishy...]