Lewis rubbed his head; he’d hit it now over 30 times. "Bloody short architects," he cursed as he noticed his fingers were covered in blood. He felt his head again and checked his reflection in one of the glass walls. "Oh well…if I wasn’t drunk I might be concerned about potential brain damage."
          "Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem," a voice piped up.
          Lewis turned to see the Buddy Holly standing in front of him, hands on hips and looking serious.
          "Hey Buddy…have a Buzz," Lewis offered, holding out a Buzz Beer.
          "Please…I’d rather drink my own urine," replied the Buddy Holly.
          "Drink mine and you can’t tell the difference," Lewis perked.
          The Buddy Holly looked quite disgusted, shook the thought from his mind and looked back at Lewis. "You do realise I’m going to kill you?"
          Lewis laughed, "Gee most people get to know me a bit first."
          "Dude…I’m not joking," the buddy holly announced, producing a machete.
          "Are you going to kill him?" asked the Canadian, sidling up next to the Buddy Holly.
          "Yes, yes I am," replied the Buddy Holly through gritted teeth.
          "Why do you want to kill him?" asked the Canadian.
          "He offended me."
          "What did he say?"
          "It’s not important…now if you don’t mind I’d like to get on with killing him."
          "What if I do mind?"
          "Why would you mind?" the Buddy Holly asked, confused.
          "Would it bother you if I said I was attracted to him?" replied the Canadian.
          "It would bother me," Lewis piped up.
          "I don’t think we were talking to you," the Buddy Holly snapped.
          "Can you not talk to him like that?" scowled the Canadian.
          Lewis, looking slightly confused, carefully backed away until he was safely around the corner.
          "Idiots," he sighed, straightened up and smacked his head in the next doorway. He let out a low growl and continued.