The day after, early afternoon

It isn't every day Lorne has to crawl out from under his thick, cozierthanthou duvet to answer an unlisted caller sending his cell phone into a vibratin', party hoppin' frenzy.

...the saxophone's blowin' on a rock n' roll show - we climbed in the back seat, really had a good ti-i-ime--

"Hot patootie, my tush." Begrudgingly flipping the phone open and letting his arm go limp. It's an approximative thing, really, where the actual receiver thingamabob ends up.

...right. His ear's over here.

"What's yer pleasure, stranger?"