18 Apocalypse Avenue, Saturday Morning

After yesterday's binge-induced hangover, the likes of which he never wanted to experience again yesterday, it was almost a relief when Bond woke up beset by cramps. Almost.

Pulling on a set of track pants, and frowning, Bond made his way into the kitchen and reached for the coffee, only to change his mind halfway and go for hot chocolate instead. The good hot chocolate. The hot chocolate that was actually made from proper chocolate. Swiss chocolate. Not that powdered substance claiming to be chocolate.

His proper, Swiss hot chocolate made, he padded out into the living room and curled up on the couch. Maybe Eastenders Westsiders was on.

[ooc: open to the housemates!]