Drew was last to join the others at the train station. He arrived as Ryan was colourfully telling the others what he and Colin had found out.

“You finally decided to haul your ass down here, then,” Greg mused.

“Hey, there’s no rush,” Drew countered.

“Well now we’re all here I’ll explain the sleeping arrangements,” Wayne smiled. “I decided we needed a shake up. So Greg and Brad will be sharing a sleeper, Ryan and Drew, Myself and Chip and Colin has one all to himself.”

Ryan did a fake jump for joy, while a smile spread across Colin’s face.

They piled onto the train and into their sleepers.

Greg and Brad spent about thirty seconds in their sleeper, decided it was way too, small and headed to the buffet carriage. They found a table and decided the best thing to do was play cards and get wasted.

The drunker the got, the more pathetic the cards game got, although they did receive quite an audience.

“SNAP,” Brad bellowed.

“That was never snap,” Greg hissed.

“Was too.”

“They’re not even the same thing, dumbass.”

“Are too.”

“Look…that’s a seven and that’s a nine.”

“They’re both red.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why?”

“It’s the rules of the game.”

“Says who?”

“Says the great god of cards.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well you should.”

“Fuck off.”

“There’s no need to be rude.”

“Rude? I’m not being rude, I’m being offensive.”

“Same diff.”

“SNAP.”

“That’s not snap.”

“Fine…I don’t want to play any more, you’re mean,” Brad sulked, chucked the cards in the air and staggered to his feet.

“What are you doing now?” Greg asked looking at the cards but too drunk to pick them up.

“I’m going to entertain the nice people,” Brad slurred.

“By doing what?” Greg asked.

“I’m going to sing them a nice song,” Brad said matter-of-factly.

Brad proceeded to sing in the style of the guy from the B52s, very badly and very out of tune. Greg was kind enough to make the small crowd give Brad a drunken round of applause.

Chip was not talking to Wayne. Instead he lay on his bunk reading a paper he’d found abandoned at the station.

“Are you still angry at me?” Wayne asked.

Chip said nothing.

“Oh come on, we got away unhurt.”

Still nothing.

“Dude, I’m sorry ok? S.O.R.R.Y,” Wayne pleaded and then started singing Bryan Adams’ “Please Forgive Me.”

Chip rolled up his paper, whacked Wayne over the head and then unrolled his paper again and went back to reading.

“Ouch! Fine, be a bastard, I don’t care,” Wayne grumbled and flumped onto his bunk.

Wayne couldn’t just lie there though and eventually got so annoyed he climbed onto Chips bunk, straddled Chip and tossed the paper onto the floor.

“TALK TO ME BEFORE I GO MAD DAMMIT,” Wayne yelled, shaking Chip.

“C..c..c…a…a…l…l..l..m..mmmm..mm….d…oooo…ww….n.nnnn….” Chip stuttered out.

“YOU TALKED.” Wayne stopped shaking Chip and hugged him.

“Jeez, buddy,” Chip gasped.

They were interrupted by the sleeper door opening and one of the people who worked on the train stepped in; she took one look at Wayne and Chip, turned bright red and dashed off.

“Great, now she thinks we’re gay,” Chip spat.

“No, no, really,” Wayne said unconvincingly as he jumped back down to the floor.

“Idiot,” Chip grumbled.

Ryan wasn’t happy. The bloody bunks were too small. The only way he could fit was if he lay on his side and hung his legs over the edge. It was bloody uncomfortable and the prospect of sleeping in the passageway was more than tempting. He decided the only thing that would make things bearable would be to hassle Drew for a while.

“So how long have you know you’re Ritz Crispin?” Ryan asked.

“How did you…” Drew’s voice trailed off.

“A transvestite called Ambrosia told me,” Ryan mused.

“Well there’s a sentence you don’t hear everyday,” Drew stated.

“Hey, don’t change the subject,” Ryan countered.

“Sorry, I only found out yesterday. I switched on the phone and got like a million messages from people wanting drugs and women,” Drew announced.

“Sounds like the perfect job for you,” Ryan jeered.

“Don’t be such an asshole,” Drew scorned. “Oh, and some guy called and wants to kill me.”

“No shit,” Ryan gasped.

“Told me to watch my back. What am I gonna do man?” Drew sighed.

“Find Ritz Crispin,” Ryan suggested.

“Oh yeah, that’s easy, I’ll ask the police, shall I? ‘Excuse me officer do you know a pimp and drug baron by the name of Ritz Crispin, I appear to have stolen his life’,” Drew hissed.

“Jeez buddy, it’s no worse than finding out you’re Mr Maslins and that you apparently got on overly well with Miss Maslins,” Ryan grumbled.

“Yeah, well at least no one wants to kill you,” Drew snapped.

“Apart from maybe my wife when she finds out,” Ryan snapped back.

“Oh yeah, suppose you’ve got a point,” Drew mumbled.

Ryan slid down from the top bunk and grabbed his pillow and blanket.

“Where are you going, man?” Drew asked.

“I’m sleeping in the passage. I can’t fit in those things,” Ryan replied.

“What if there’s an emergency? You’ll be obstructing an exit or something,” Drew stated.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Ryan mused and disappeared out the door.