In Which Sitka faces the aftermath of the evening's festivities and meets yet another rather puzzling new friend. We find our heroine on the hallway floor of the house someone dumped her in, sleeping off the two pints of Guinness and three bowls of pretzels she tore through ten hours previously.

ohh... my eyes hurt. Where am I? Oooh, nice rug. Why is that cockroach shuffling so loudly?

IN A WORLD WHERE COCKROACHES SHUFFLE LOUDLY--

OW! Not so loud, please. Who are you and why are you in this house? Why am I in this house, come to think of it... ow. Thinking is painful.

I'M A MOVIE ANNOUNCER GUY AND I'M GOING TO NARRATE YOUR HANGOVER.

Why are you booming like that? It hurts my ears. And what is on your head?

THIS IS JUST HOW I TALK. I WEAR THESE HEADPHONES SO I CAN HEAR MYSELF.

Well, I don't think you need them. They can probably hear you next door, you're so boomy. Besides, I don't like anyone narrating my life but me. Now to find a way out. ow ow ow what is that NOISE?

THE SOUND OF HER HOOVES CLICKING ON THE HARDWOOD FLOOR DRIVES SHARP LITTLE BOLTS OF PAIN INTO HER ALREADY BEFUDDLED HEAD.

...oh, shut it. I'll just walk on the carpet. tummy flip tummy flip oh tummy tummy tummy tummy flip...

SHE CATCHES A POLISHED FOOT ON THE EDGE OF THE BEARSKIN RUG AND FALLS FACE FIRST INTO A BASKET OF WARM LAUNDRY.

No I do NOT! ow loud *flump*

TOLD YOU.

Aaah warm towels... on my face... and I stand back up.

AS SHE STUMBLES ABOUT WITH A TOWEL ON HER HEAD, HER STOMACH BEGINS TO ROIL FROM THE SUDDEN BURST OF MOTION.

Go away. You're not helping me.

YES I AM.

How?

I'M WARNING YOU ABOUT WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN. I'M A MOVIE ANNOUNCER GUY, IT'S WHAT I DO.

Look. I'm not going to yell because that will only make me feel worse than I already do, and I feel like hundreds of tiny elves in steel-toed boots are tap-dancing on my skull, so I'll just whisper. I am fine. I do not need any help from you. You are getting on what's left of my last nerve and making it very hard for me to have any joy in this experience!!

IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE JOYFUL.

Then why am I having it?

BECAUSE YOU'RE A DEER.

Ya know, right now that makes more sense than any of this. What next?

SHE DRAWS NEAR THE DOOR AND NUDGES IT OPEN WITH HER PRETZEL-SALTED MUZZLE. AS SHE STICKS HER HEAD INTO THE CLEAR DAY SUNLIGHT BLINDS HER AND SHE IS FORCED TO WITHDRAW INTO THE COOL DARKNESS OF THE HOUSE.

Hah! I'll just pull the towel down lower and off I go!

YOU REALLY SHOULD STAY AND REST.

No! Here I go, dancing down the street, SO HAPPPPEEEEE why do I feel like tummy wants to get out, oh dear I need to get to a trash can...

I WARNED YOU.