Jack was buzzed. Pleasantly so, with that faint sound in his ears that told him his balance was slightly off with every step. He made his way into the kitchen, hunting something salty to take the edge off his munchies; the chip bowl had been empty and TJ had pointed him this way.
He paused in the doorway, shaking his head. "Damn, I think I could fit half my mom's home in this one room. And it's a kitchen."
Glancing over, he saw he wasn't alone, and gave a rueful smile to Gatsby. "Oh, hey, don't mind me, I'm being envious of our host. And hunting potato chips. Seen them?"