Kyle cracks up again, looking at Roxy and shaking his head. "Wow. Wow, you're the jealous type, who knew." He squeezes Quentin's hand. "Don't worry, you're stuck with me. I fully intend to only sleep in weird furniture display beds with you for the duration of this stay on the Isle of Mass Consumerism."

He looks at Roxy. "Look at this, isn't he the fucking cutest? He's like an angry chihuahua, I love it. Or one of those weird dogs with the mohawks, uhm, Chinese crested? Yeah. That."