It's the morning after the night before and Adam has decided that he's going to plead temporary insanity. Or possibly acid. Definitely acid.

"Seriously, I can't believe you guys did this again," Kris says from the foot of the bed. He's got a camera, and he's carefully taking a picture. From the angle, Adam's pretty sure Kris just photographed his ass. Although he supposes that you can't really see it, what with Anna's hand there and all.

Anna jerks at the sound of a voice and her finger twitches and Adam muffles his yelp into the pillow. Anna lifts her head, bleary-eyed and blinking hard, hair sticking straight up off her forehead and pillow lines in her cheek.

"Fucking *men*," she snarls, yanks her hand away--Adam yelps some more and tries not to get turned on again, because seriously, three fucking times last night.

Acid. It had to be acid. Adam tries to remember the last time he took some. 2002? He's got a headache and he's hungover. He never gets hungover. This is what comes of sleeping with girls, he thinks bleakly.

Kris is laughing too hard to breathe, actually snorting through his nose as he snickers, and the camera just goes "click click click".

Adam closes his eyes and waits for death to claim him.