Mal and Alain were still sitting in the café talking about the girl sitting by the back wall when Rona came in to join them.

"Well, nice of you to turn up!" said Alain. "We were just about to start writing a sign: 'Last seen on Swan Street bumming drinks of her mates. Missing presumed hung over.'"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Rona dragged a chair over to the table. "I spotted a ticket inspector so I had to hop the tram."

"Why don't you just buy a ticket for once? It's only three bucks!"

"Fuck that!"

Alain looked at her head. "Is it possible that your hair's grown even shorter since last night?"

"I dunno, is it possible your brain's shrunk even more?"

"Didn't that stop being an insult, like, in primary school?"

"Fuck it, whatever. How the hell are you?" Rona gave Alain a slap across the shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Whoa, careful, not too much physical attention."

"What?"

Mal leaned forward. "There's a girl over there's been checking him out."

"Oh I see, and you reckon she sees me hitting you, she gonna think I'm your girlfriend?"

"Well . . ."

Rona shook her head. "So, how long have you two been here checking out this girl who may - or may not - have been checking you out?"

Alain looked at his watch. "I dunno. How long've we been here, Mal?"

Rona rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me." She looked around for a moment. "D'you have any plans to actually approach this girl?"

"No, no, play it cool, play it cool" urged Mal.

"You know" said Rona, "as one who knows the odd thing about stupid guys, there's a fine line between 'playing it cool' and 'the cold shoulder'."

Alain grinned. "And if I walk that line, she'll be mine."

"I can't believe you just said that. This whole situation's so dumb I just know there's gotta be a hidden camera 'round here somewhere."