It's a good thing Darryl's this drunk or Michael being a total freak would be weirding him out even more. Somehow he managed to grab the seat right next to Darryl at Poor Richard's and he's sitting just a little too close. Drunk, he's weirdly quiet, but he keeps reaching up to touch the Santa hat Darryl's still wearing. Darryl shifts in his seat so he's even closer to Roy on his other side. Roy looks up from his beer.

"What's up?"

Darryl shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Hey man," says Michael. He's swaying a little in his seat. "I just wanted to say I'm sor-- I mean, about the hat thing, um. Sorry about that."

"'s cool, man," Darryl says. "Don't worry about it."

"So are we, you know," Michael lowers his voice. "Dinkin' flicka?"

Darryl bites his lip hard to keep from laughing.

"Yeah, we're dinkin' flicka."

Michael nods seriously. "Good. Good good."

His attention drifts over to where Todd Packer is saying something that makes the redheaded chick guffaw and the temp look awkwardly out the window, where it's still snowing. Darryl shakes his head and calls for another drink.