Manor. Raige and Slampiece Buttfuck, looking rumpled, edge into the kitchen from the dining room and warily glance about. "Looks like they're still asleep," Buttfuck observes. "Maybe I should sneak out of here." Raige dragged a trick back to the Manor? Tramp. Good for her. Buttfuck's visited the barber for a trim since last we saw him, and the shorter, non-shaggy coif he's sporting suits him far more than the wild, greasy one had in the past. Raige, who simply slipped into a pair of shorts and an old button-down to escort her slampiece on the first leg of his Walk Of Shame, flings her arms around his neck and purrs, "Why don't you stay for breakfast?" Easing backwards towards the sink while dragging Buttfuck along with her, Raige continues, "How do you like your eggs?" If Buttfuck answers, "Fertilized," I'm going to storm out of my apartment and throttle the first person I see. Fortunately for the blameless passers-by on my street, Buttfuck instead worries his brow a bit and wonders, "What about your sisters?" "What about 'em?" Raige shrugs dismissively, taking another step back, and whoops! She trips over the hidden Piper's outstretched leg and plummets to the floor. "Oh!" Piper calls, emerging from beneath the sink. "Sorry." She'd been trying to fix the clogged garbage disposal, you see. Buttfuck immediately apologizes for spending the night without first receiving Piper and Phoebe's approval, but Piper, practically leering, is all, "[Raige] is a big girl. She can…hang out all she wants to." Off Buttfuck's Too Much Information eyebrow wiggle, Piper hastily amends, "Not that she does that a lot. I mean --" "You can stop now," Raige grunts. Heh. And thank God for Raige's interruption. I don't think I have enough time to link to every single one of Raige's previous slampieces, givenhow many of them there are.

See what I did there? Oh, shut up. Raige is a slut, and God love her for it.

Buttfuck, eager to change the topic of conversation, offers to take a look at the disposal. He's all manly, of course, and therefore able to do something about it, or some such bullshit. I, on the other hand, do not hesitate to pester the landlord when the smallest thing breaks down in this place, and I'm not ashamed in the least to admit to that. I pay enough goddamned money to live here, after all. The fat bastard who's profiting off my tired ass can change the goddamned light bulb in the hall, is all I'm saying. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Buttfuck flips a switch, and the vile pond of brown water in the sink gurgles a bit. Piper crosses to lean against the counter with Raige, expositing that in addition to their gunked-up disposal, the cable's on the fritz, the washer's making wonking sounds, and the sink in the upstairs bathroom's suffering from what appears to be an enormous hair plug. "Sounds like fun," Raige offers, while offering no help whatsoever. "That's my life!" Piper jazz-hands. "All about fun." Buttfuck, meanwhile, has been anxiously eyeing the gals. He reaches what is apparently a difficult decision and places his left hand above the Froot-Loop-dotted water in the sink. His hand glows yellow and emits a series of wavering rays of white light that somehow fix the disposal. Raige, delighted, enthuses, "He's handy to have around!" Piper, suspicious, snots, "I thought you didn't use magic anymore." Buttfuck shrugs that he only unleashes his bizarre mojo on "little things." "Do you want me to fix the washer?" he asks. Raige and Piper give simultaneous and contradictory answers. Three guesses which shrew said no, like, button it, Piper. Buttfuck's just trying to help.