The Big Damn Sandbox

Tony Stonem's carrying a toothbrush when he walks through the front door, an early morning British street his backdrop. For a moment, he's too busy running his tongue over his teeth to realise this isn't his house.

"--oh. I see."

He stops in his tracks to look around, taking in the bar in a thoughtful and rather calculating manner. Then he shakes off his toothbrush and pockets it, takes a step forward, and puts his hands around his mouth to shout.

"Anyone want to tell me where I am, then?"