"Dang but there are a lot of changes of sheets in here," Cooper mused as he rifled the armoire that stood against the wall that separated his room from the en suite bath. "No pressure or anything..."<br/><br/>The meager assortment of clothes he had brought with him didn't even fill two of the deep shelves. On the positive side, he reflected, that did leave plenty of room for him to lay out his other gear. Half of one was therefore given over to his ratchet set, left open for quicker access. The Super Tool he usually kept holstered on his belt, but considering what Mel had said, he wasn't sure he wouldn't just look foolish carrying it with him. Then again, you never knew when you might stumble across something that needed tinkering with; Cooper shrugged and reattached the holster.<br/><br/>"Now," he muttered, "Let's see if they get a sport that isn't soccer here." He scooped up the television remote from his nightstand and flipped on the small set.<br/><br/>"Formula One!" he beamed. "Now you're talking." He flopped down on the settee and put up his feet.