Pete, wakes up in the middle of the night to see Porsche an inch from his face:
Porsche: So we had this id-, stop screaming-, we had this idea.
Pete: Who the hell is we?
Pol, directly beside his face: We had this idea.
Pete: Dear God, there's two of them.
Arm, sliding out from under the bed: Three actually. I helped them to get in and get you, I'd feel safer to whatever they want to do if you're with us.
Vegas, who was asleep: What the hell is happening?
Tankhun, entering in the room: We're stealing your husband.
Vegas, hugging Pete: Fuck no.
