And as you're a douchbag, you walk around with that haircut.

On the bartender's lap, I guess.

Inside, so Cate isn't too far away from the bar.

You're not sitting on the table, you momo.

Where it smells like fish.

The lady doesn't like walking, Mikey.

For short, we just write 'etc.'

You're in England, there are no nice restaurants.

Yeah, he's going to get you drunk and have his way with you.

I don't know what your plans are, but I'm pretty sure I know where Mikey's thoughts are heading.