When the wolfeasel came in (the second time, that was) Chris gave him the usual friendly clout on the head. "Antisocial little thing, aren't we?" he smirked. "Are you ashamed to be seen with us or what?"<br/><br/>He lay out on the couch, scratching his head at her expression. "Well, there's time to run a little "competition" out front, pick a random ticket stub, that whoever wins gets to come back and meet the band. S. If Motorhead are alright with it. I'm sure I'll have no problem getting people's attention, anyway." He ran his tongue over his lips, grinning confidently. "How about it, so I can change and start working on my hair?" As polite and quietly spoken as he was, he was rather vain.