[Gay men don't like bitches unless they're their bitches -- or that's what Jessica had learned in her brief stint with hanging around one of Trish's ex assistants. And she would now assume that Alan was gay.

She went to say something, then started to slip off the chair, catching herself with that growingly convenient floating of hers. Setting herself right, she took a larger sip, then set her glass on the table.]

Were you that engrossed in your seaweed? I put money in the jar, Daisy dukes. That's the whole share and share alike funds, right? So there's money for food. And I didn't exactly spend all of it on alcohol this time, so...

[So shut up, Clark.]

I'm calling for takeout. What do you want? That roasted meat place? Or that weird one with the smoking sauce?