Charlotte

What... a commotion. (Her voice slices through the air, clinical and detached, as she stands in the doorway with a disapproving gaze. The stench of cheap alcohol hangs in the air like a bad omen) I trust you made yourself useful while i was... out... (I'm so drunk) err... (I drop on the sofa) well... aren't you going... to... errr... ask how my night... was? ehh?