Plans.

Woah, watch out for those Americans over there. 7:30 bedtimes mean one thing, bro: 11 o'clock ragers. Seriously, I'll bet anything those yankee fucks head on down to Peader's about 11:10, knock back a couple of Guinness and start the revolution. We're in for a fucking firestorm tonight, brah.

What's that? They're just writing emails and watching youtube clips? It's called Sentimentality, dude, and it's about a 4.5 in Caulkins' grid-group research for Americans. Read a book. These assholes are lulling you in to a false sense of security. Sure, they act just like you and will probably get upwards of 10 hours of sleep tonight. Sure, they've taken at least an hour long nap every day they've been here. Sure, that short guy looks like he's pooped himself out of fright. Don't believe it. When the shit hits the fan, these turds will be rolling in it. Seriously, they really smell like feces. Did he actually shit himself?

That's not the point. The point is that Herr Fritz and that fucking Viking are threat numbero uno tonight and every night until they leave this city. Keep your eyes and ears open, padre; it's go time.