Jack was irritated enough with Darren to strand him alone in the back seat, rather than having Vitus play chauffeur like earlier.
    "So I'm guessing this isn't going to cover the bargain." he said as they drove back to Helen's bar.
    "You've got it. The torment will never end. We're stuck with.... this problem until she gets bored or comes up with a new torture method."
    "Great, there's nothing I'd rather be doing than... this."
    "Tell me about it, I don't think either of us are going to have luck picking anyone up with... the um, problem."
    "I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME." Darren yelled and then slumped in his seat like a defeated child.
    "...No we weren't." said Vitus.
    "Yeah! Ego much Mr. Rockstar?" Jack added, "We were talking about Helen's... dry cleaning."
Darren grasped at the air futilely, "YOU ARE BOTH LIARS AND I HATE YOU."

       Tristan dressed while the eerie monster watched.
"Thanks I am a model, or that would bother me creepy-man." Tristan thought. Tomasz led him wordlessly down a winding corridor, to yet another part of the mansion Tristan had never been to. He was lucky if he could spend the night alone in bed, so he'd never explored the sprawling estate. He'd come to expect new and unusual types of horror, but this was the first time Dragomir had requested his audience alone, and loathed to think what 'lesson' he might be about to learn.