| Current mood: |  hungover |
three
[Miranda]
Oh gods, Miranda. Tell me you haven't already buggered off back to Merlin knows where.
[Malcolm]
----
Oy. I don't think I'll be able to look at a firewhiskey bottle ever again for at least 17 days without feeling nauseous. My aching head agrees with me, so it must be the best plan.
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