"What in Katharine Hepburn did we do last night?" Lifting his covers and looking down at his trouser snake, he smiles and nods as he looks around the room - seeing a sloth in the bed next to him.

The two take their time getting up from their rot ridden motel beds - having already on their shabby and unwashed clothes as Richie acquires himself to the bathroom, grabbing a comb and curls back the grease ridden, knot baring fur that he has assembled himself all these years without washing once,

"Eddie!" Richie shouts at the top of his lungs, "Eddie, come quick!"

"Oh piss off you bumbling, John Profumo looking ponce!" Eddie shouts back as he tries to unstick himself from the dried Larger mixed in with all the other liquids have merged to the fabric of his suit he slept in,

"What are you doing Eddie, I need you!" Richie explodes out with worry, holding a fist full of his greasy hair in his hands - running into the bedroom, pushing down on the hair in his hand on his skull, trying to put it back on,

"I was asleep, but now i'm talking to a git," Not in total sobriety, Eddie blurts out holding a can of Larger and chunks of kebab on his chin,

"No time for Romantics, look at this Eddie, I think i'm Ill!" Throwing a first full of the oily residue ontop of the kebab chilli covered head of Eddie, 

"You are, in the head," Getting flash backs to the night before, Eddie remembers quite well of him shaving a rabid, flea ridden dog and shoving it down Richies pants, "Ha-ha-haaa-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaa," Pausing again for a moment, "Euughhh, you dirty, dirty boy," 

"Wha-at?" Richie replies with a diagonal looking mouth and his arms crossed,

Eddie stands up with the rotten bed stuck to his back as he turns slowly towards Richie, hitting the cheap and broken chandler and removing all contents ontop of the nightstand as it curvatures on the ceiling, "How did that hair get on your hands Richie?" Eddie inquisitively speaks in a breathy and vindictive voice, "I think someone was playing Five sisters again wasn't we!" Eddie gets closer with the bed stuck to him and the rotten hair ontop of his head,

"Oh-ha-ha-haaaa," Richie laughs in a worried tone, trying to think of a way to change the subject, "Why don't you just lie down again with your can of pristine choice of alcohol and later we can go and get some ice-cream, you'd like that wouldn't you?" Richie bargains, putting his hands to the side, standing straight with his neck slumped down,

"Magazines you hide under that bed and the one dollar twenty in your pocket and I'll forget this ever happened," Eddie talks in a scheming way - as Richie's body twists and turns, with his face scrunched, 

"Ofcourse, ofcourse Eddie - what ever you like," Richie moves towards the bed, taking the magazines and taking the money out of his pocket - placing it on the nightstand next to his bed, beginning to move around Eddie as Richie see's his wallet, a letter from his uncle with 'To the sender only,' and somehow the Crown jewels with a note from the prime minster with a kiss mark,

"You complete BASTARD"