It was late afternoon when the country gave way to the semi-bustling streets of Adelaide.

“God I hate this place,” Rona huffed, still suffering from a raging hangover.

“I see nothing has changed since I left,” Gina sighed.

“You’re from here?” Fenny asked more out of boredom than curiosity.

“Yeah, my little home city. You can see why LA damn near killed me,” Gina mused.

“I thought that was all the lust you were holding back,” Fenny jeered.

Gina gave Fenny the finger and Fenny responded by poking her tongue out.

“Real mature,” Rona scowled.

“Hey, that’s the most entertaining thing that’s happened in the last six hours,” Gina snorted.

Rona declined furthering the argument as Ritza pulled into the Hilton’s car park.

“Any idea where they might be staying?” Paul asked, waking up from his fifth nap.

“The Hilton,” Brad replied.

“Hold memories for ya does it?” Paul queried.

“More like several hours of intense psychotherapy,” Greg stated.

“Well at least we’re dressed better than last time,” Brad piped up.

“Shit, we forgot to return the suits,” Paul gasped and then giggled.

“Can you get arrested for not returning a rented suit?” Brad asked.

“Do you think they’d care that much?” Greg added, “I certainly wouldn’t want something that’s infused with Paul’s body odour.”

“Fuck off, Greg, I’ve changed, I shower regularly now,” Paul retorted.

“Yeah, whatever, McDermott,” Greg sneered and turned to look out of the window. Paul pretended to stab an imaginary knife into Greg’s back.

“This is it,” Brad announced so suddenly that both Greg and Paul jumped. “So what are our plans now that we’re here?” he added.

“I reckon we get some sleep, I’m exhausted,” Greg yawned.

“I agree. Paul, what do you think?” Brad asked.

“I’m wide awake,” Paul whined. “No, really, catch up on some sleep. Can’t really fight evil when you’re fucked.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Brad managed to combine both,” Greg jeered.

Paul covered his mouth to hide his laughter and Brad glared at Greg, who smiled back impudently.

Fenny and Gina found themselves led to yet another hotel room, although this one was pleasantly posh.

“Can we order room service?” Gina asked.

“You can have whatever is in the bar fridge, that’s it,” Ritza hissed.

“Oh yay, more three-year-old peanuts and soda,” Fenny sarced as she sauntered into the room.

“If Rona gets worse, and you have to have her put down…we’d completely understand,” Gina mused as she brushed past Ritza.

The door slammed behind her loudly.

“That went down well,” Fenny chirped as she set forth raiding the bar fridge.

“She’s more hormonal than a thirteen-year-old at an NSYNC concert,” Gina perked.

“Oh, we have two cans of Pepsi and some grapes,” Fenny announced, grabbing the cans and grapes and dumping them on the bed.

“You know, I’ve slept with you more than I have with Greg,” Gina announced.

“Thanks for that mental image,” Fenny scorned, helping herself to a handful of grapes.

“It’s true,” Gina shrugged. “So, do you think they’ve made it to Adelaide?”

“Don’t know. I hope so,” Fenny sighed.

Gina grabbed the television remote. “Let’s see what’s on.”

The television flickered to life and Fenny choked on a grape. On screen was the episode of Whose Line that she had been dragged up and Brad had sung to her; in fact, that was exactly the scene that was playing.

“You know that whole sign thing you were going on about…” Gina mused.

“It’s just come back and bitten me in the ass,” Fenny gasped as she dislodged the grape.

“Ok fellas. Greg you’re in room 202, Brad you’re in 201 and I’m in…” Paul’s voice trailed off.

“What?” Brad mused.

“Nothing, I’m in 203,” Paul finished.

“You sure?” Greg pressed.

“Yeah, didn’t you want to sleep?” Paul grumbled.

“More than anything. Wake me later and we’ll have dinner or something,” Greg announced as they headed to the elevator.

“I hope this is where the girls are,” Brad breathed as the doors closed.

“Unless they’re buried in shallow graves back along the track somewhere,” Paul perked.

“That’s horrible,” Greg scorned.

“It’s a possibility,” Paul said matter-of-factly.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes,” Greg snapped.

“Me? That’s cheap coming from a…” Paul stopped as the elevator doors opened, revealing Ritza. Who looked just as shocked.

“Fuck,” Brad shrieked and closed the doors. He pressed the button for the next floor.

“Well, that was a great move,” Greg sarced. “Now she’ll go take it out on the girls.”

“What are we going to do?” Brad babbled.

“Calm down for a start,” Paul scorned. “Look, the doors didn’t open all the way. We might get away with it.”

“DID YOU NOT SEE THE LOOK ON HER FACE?” Brad bellowed.

“DON’T YELL AT ME, PRETTY BOY,” Paul yelled back.

“CAN WE STOP YELLING,” Greg added as the doors opened.

The three men edged out gingerly and then, after deciding it was safe, took the stairs to the previous floor.

“Ok, things beginning with ‘B’,” Gina perked. “A bloke’s name?”

“Brad,” Fenny replied.

“Something you like to squeeze?”

“Brad’s bum.”

“Something you like to eat?”

“Body paint, chocolate flavoured, smeared over Brad and licked off.”

“Your favourite hobby?”

“Bouncing off walls with Brad.”

“Something that totally turns you off?”

“Brad’s bad breath in the morning…totally disgusting.”

“Last question now: if you weren’t being held captive by a couple of psychos you would be?”

“Bonking beautiful Brad beneath a bridge in Bali,” Fenny giggled. “That’s the most fun game of Scattagories I have ever had.”

“I noticed a pattern forming with your answers,” Gina mused.

“Really, well I never,” Fenny said innocently.

“My turn now,” Gina perked

“Ok, things beginning with…”

Fenny was cut off as the door flew open and Ritza marched into the room.

“I have to go out, Rona is still here so don’t try anything. The door will be locked.”

“Bye, Mum,” Gina waved as Ritza stormed out again.

“She’s like a tsunami of anger, that one,” Fenny sighed.

“You can continue now,” Gina enthused.

“Oh yes, things beginning with ‘P’,” Fenny perked.

“Oh man,” Gina breathed.

Greg staggered into his hotel room as he undid his bow tie and slipped his jacket off. He chucked the jacket onto the bed and wandered into the bathroom. Last time he’d been in the hotel the first thing he wanted was a shower, and while this time he didn’t stink like sheep, he still wanted a shower. Greg turned the water on and the bathroom filled with steam. He stripped off, placed his glasses on the sink and slid under the water. As he shampooed his hair and smothered his skin in sweet-smelling shower gel, Greg was startled by a tinkling noise. It wasn’t until he’d pulled on his complementary robe and glasses that he found his wedding ring resting on the slippery floor tiles.

Greg dried his ring and looked at it a moment. He read the inscription, then without a second thought placed it on the bedside cabinet. He fell onto the bed and switched on the TV; he removed his glasses and placed them on the pillow before he turned over and drifted off to the theme music of The Bold and The Beautiful.

Fenny had taken to scribbling more doodles as Gina sat channel surfing. Both girls jumped when there was a knock at the door. Gina leapt off the bed and sauntered over.

“Hello,” she called.

“Hello, it’s room service, we have your towels,” the voice replied.

“Oh, ah…the door’s locked,” Gina announced.

She heard the jingling of keys, the door swung open and a young woman handed her several fluffy white towels.

“They will be changed tomorrow,” the woman smiled.

“Thank you,” Gina nodded and watched the woman leave. She turned to Fenny. “Still hungry?”

“We couldn’t just walk out, could we?” Fenny gasped, sitting up.

“Well Ritza’s not about, and Rona’s comatose,” Gina perked.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Fenny beamed as she sauntered over to the door with Gina.

“After you, then,” Gina grinned and ushered Fenny out the door.

“Do you think they have chicken? I have a real craving for chicken,” Fenny chirped as they started off down the corridor.

“I bet they have ten types of chicken,” Gina enthused.

Paul was bored. No, he wasn’t bored, he was in a semi-mentally-dead state that was as close to the brain capacity of a supermodel as he ever wanted to be. Damn those five naps he’d had. He’d already drunk several miniatures of alcohol, which did nothing more than leave a pleasant taste in his mouth. He’d also watched a documentary on the sex life of the yellow-footed rock wallaby.

When he realised he was enjoying children’s television, he decided that it was definitely time to go and find something to do. The problem was he was in Adelaide, and everyone knew there was nothing to do in Adelaide. That’s why it was “The City of Churches”: because so many people died there, and they died there because people had nothing better to do but kill each other. Paul laughed at his own manic thoughts, and decided he shouldn’t be so harsh. He had been born there, after all. He decided not to think about what that said about him.

After a nice long shower, Brad was wandering around his hotel room in his underwear, still totally paranoid about Fenny. He hoped that Ritza hadn’t recognised them and gone back and done something awful to the woman he loved. He was pacing the floor so intently that he didn’t hear the first knock on the door. He was startled when there was a second louder knock, and he tiptoed over to the door. He pondered what he’d do if it was Ritza, and then decided he didn’t care.

“Hello, your towels sir,” a young woman smiled.

“Oh, I have towels,” Brad smiled.

“Do you? Crap, I wish people would follow the roster…sorry to disturb you,” the woman scorned and headed off down the corridor.

Brad noticed as she left a set of keys fells to the floor. He grabbed them and dashed into the corridor.

“EXCUSE ME,” he called. The woman looked back and Brad held up the keys. She rushed back, apologised again and took the keys. Brad turned back to his room, grabbed the door handle and found his door had locked.

“Shit,” he breathed and vainly tried to open the door. He heard voices and quickly dashed about trying all the doors to find one that opened. Just before the voices rounded the corner, a door swung open and he dashed inside.

“That was the best meal ever,” Fenny smiled as she finished the last of her Pepsi.

“I agree. I’m pissed they had nothing chocolate related though,” Gina cussed.

“Never mind, at least we’ve regained some lost nutrition.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Gina sighed. “So, what do you want to do now?”

“I might have a lie down. Now that I’ve eaten, I feel all sleepy.”

“Aww, you can go and I’ll sort out the bill,” Gina offered.

“You sure?” Fenny asked,

“Positive. I’ll be five minutes.”

Fenny pushed back her chair and headed for the elevator. She felt pleasantly full and strangely relaxed. The doors clunked open when they reached the right floor, and Fenny stepped out and headed to the hotel room. The door was still unlocked as she slid inside.

“Man, am I tired,” she mumbled, kicked off her shoes and removed her jeans. She threw back the covers and was about to climb into bed when she heard a noise. She scanned the room and then heard another one—they were coming from the closet. She edged over and gingerly gripped the door handle. Fenny took a deep breath, then slid the door back. There amongst the disused coat hangers was Brad in nothing but his red boxers.

“Brad,” Fenny squeaked.

“Fenny,” Brad gasped.

“What the fuck are you doing in the closet?” she gasped and helped him out.

“I got locked out of my room,” he replied, sounding as silly as he felt.

“I’d like to say that surprises me,” Fenny smiled, her hand still entwined in his.

Brad looked down at their hands and stroked the top of hers with his thumb.

“How did you guys get out?” he asked.

“Room service,” Fenny replied, her eyes fixing on Brad’s.

“Funny, that’s how I got locked out of my room,” Brad breathed as Fenny moved closer. One of her hands moved to caress his cheek, and he kissed the palm of her hand.

“Where’s Gina?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Who cares,” Fenny purred.

Gina swaggered up the stairs to try and wear off some of her newfound energy. She reached her floor and hummed to herself as she approached the hotel room door. She was about to waltz in and announce how she’d put their meal on Ritza’s tab when she heard voices. She recognised the two American voices as Fenny and Brad and decided she best leave them too it, but would be extremely unforgiving if she was going to have to spend the night dodging the wet patch. The next question was what to do next. She was running through a million ideas in her head when a hand covered her mouth. She fought hard not to scream.

“What are you doing lurking about?”

“Paul you bastard,” Gina hissed as he let her go.

“Ha, your face was priceless,” Paul cackled.

“That wasn’t funny,” Gina scowled.

“Sorry,” Paul said insincerely. “So what are you doing?”

“Fen and Brad are catching up,” Gina sighed, motioning to the room behind her.

“Ah, and you’ve got nowhere to go?” Paul nodded.

“Something like that,” Gina replied.

“Come on, you can hang out in my room for awhile,” Paul perked.

“You sure?” Gina asked, slightly shocked.

“No, I’m offering because I’m waiting for the results of the secret ballot to come back,” Paul sarced.

Gina giggled and followed him. She paused outside the door. “Oh my god. 203.”

“Yeah, would you believe it?” Paul mused as he unlocked the door.

“The very first place we had sex,” Gina laughed as she walked in and looked at the bed.

“Well technically, the first place we did it was on the floor,” Paul corrected.

“How could I forget,” Gina laughed. She sat herself on the end of the bed, and Paul ripped off his bow tie and jacket and hung them over a chair. He then undid several shirt buttons.

“Finally I can breathe,” he gasped.

“You should have changed,” Gina shrugged.

“I haven’t had time,” Paul groaned and joined her on the end of the bed.

They fell silent and stared at their feet for a few moments, until Gina looked up.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she breathed, turning to Paul. “I’ve been such a bitch to you, you didn’t deserve what I did to you, and I didn’t deserve you.”

“Babe, what happened was both our faults, we were so self-obsessed and career-obsessed…” Paul began.

“I broke our vows three months after we made them,” Gina cut in.

“We both broke the whole ‘love, honour and obey’ thing. We didn’t do any of that. We lied, cheated and deceived,” Paul said quietly.

“You never cheated on me though,” Gina breathed. This time Paul looked at her.

“No I didn’t. Damn, you can tell when I’m lying,” he said with a small smile.

“Not only that, I can tell when you’re angry, horny and you’ve broken something,” Gina smiled back.

Paul looked away again and then looked back. “What you have with Greg…it’s not worth it.”

“I know, but…”

“But nothing. You’re gonna get hurt no matter how much you love him and he loves you…” Paul cut in.

“But I don’t love him,” Gina said softly.