We work and we slave.

Cameron's got some chocolate cake with him. He puts it on the table and settles down in one of the chairs. Keeping his head down in the lounge sounds like a good thing right now.


((Shut up. I know it's not Thursday. *mutters*))

Cameron wakes up, belly down with his face squashed against the arm of the couch. The first thing he's aware of is that his mouth is dry and tastes vile. The second's that this definitely isn't his bed and there's no one beside him. Third, something hard is poking in his hip. It's only when he rolls onto his back and pulls out $50 in monopoly money and a silver metal car that he notices the splitting headache.

"Oh boy," he mutters and tries to sit up. The world is spinning and his shoulder is stiff. "Not good."

He's got absolutely no clue how he got here, but he's going to take a wild guess that it involves monopoly and booze. Which really doesn't add up.