Mr. Babyface direly needs to find his nephew in Hana Lei and attempt to talk some sense into him, but he can’t seem to stop studying this Big E provided with the apartment.
“Ahh, what the heck,” he says, prying himself away from the object. “Time to take the plunge…”
“Me Gods, what a mess. A Messiaen Mess.”
He turns around in his tracks, staring into the heart of infantile Hana Lei. “Where *are* the stoneheads?”
He walks down to take a closer look.
The band now known as Lamb were all gathered at Chunkies playing Guess That Fish when Paul heard him grumbling to himself on Swingset Knoll beyond the door. There could be no mistaking.