So there was this gigantic bed and the feel of Francine's hair against her skin, and the scent of baby powder and holy god this might actually be happening because Francine sure seemed responsive tonight, and --

"Sonofa#$(*!@)_bitch!"

That part was definitely Katchoo, who hadn't ordered room service and wished she knew how to kill things with her brain. (Quite possibly she was the only one in any world ever who wished she could do that.)