He was on the stage. And then he wasn't. What he experienced before being dragged on the stage and after being dragged off by someone who paid his weight in tokens and had other intentions for him was far worse than the spectacle. He would have rather they just shot him through the head there and then.

He doesn't look much worse for wear right now, apart from his dripping wet hair unable to defy the pull of gravity. Dark circles under his eyes are the new normal around these parts. For once, he doesn't smell like nicotine or alcohol, soaking in the bath.

"You weren't. I was just taking a nap. Of sorts. You get to a certain age, you know." He's still in a jovial mood, it seems. Today might just turn out not to be a bad day, comparatively.