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“Is that coffee?” Simon asked, blearily. “I thought I smelled coffee.” “Yep, fresh pot. Almost done with the good stuff, so enjoy it while it lasts.” “Brilliant,” Simon sighed. “I was dreaming that I was trapped in a cell with Jayne and Zoe, and Jayne was wearing the most elegant pink taffeta gown . . .” “You . . . maybe you should lay off th’ booze before night-night?” “I didn’t have anything to drink last night,” Simon admitted as he poured a cup of steaming liquid consciousness. “Um . . . maybe you should start, then?”
-- The Treasure of Lei Fong Wu -- Chapter Ninety by ScrewtheAlliance
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