[In an interesting incident of a device actually hating the other person involved more than its owner, the video flips on, inconveniently, as per usual. It's Chris' room, if you're used to recognising it, and his bed, and him IN the bed, draped over another person.
Luckily for the Network, no bits are exposed, however, enough shoulder and back and
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dunno mam. rilly dont. [And a safe, if mainly untrue bet.] recon Chrissie were probly drunk?
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Really, you couldn't have looked at what was going on on the network and inferred that maybe it wouldn't be the smartest time for a fling?
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Well, at least yeh're at his place.
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[She won't, she's teasing]
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What?! No! Don't. I need that fry-up.
He didn't even have the decency to make me toast.
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Also, Nathan? Seriously?
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I dunno. I'm not Chrissie, am I!?
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He mutters under his breath as he takes a step towards the bathroom.]
A token effort, that's it.
[He lifts his hand and raps quietly on the closed door.]
... You alright?
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