Drunk. Deeeee-runk. Drink, drank, drunk, drunk, drunk. Lorne's drunk. That stuff...from that place...it tastes like Sprite, but has the kick of grain alcohol mixed with vodka and maybe actual Sprite. And paint thinner. It feels good to be drunk. Real good. Almost as good as these super-soft walls he keeps pinballing off of. They're great. They totally fucked up some hive ships. Now that was great.

Drunk. Parrish was totally drunk and the botanists kept making toasts - who knew botanists could hold their liquor like that? Man, the walls are squishy, and they talk. They sound kinda like porn, actually. Like someone getting fucked - loud and moany and groany and a couple of "Yeah, god"s and "more"s and "fuck, Sheppard, right there"s.

Drunk. That's it. Lorne is sooo 'faced if he's hearing that sort of thing from McKay's lab. Still peeks in the window, though. Huh, that's his CO with the Chief Skient...Chief Seciont...Chief Socee - screw it - McKay bent over a lab table and fucking him. Fucking him a lot.

Drunk. In fact, so drunk that he doesn't even notice that McKay's got an awesome ass. He doesn't notice much, anyway. Lorne's going home to sleep it off. Totally.