After the group had suffered through playing a few more tense and uncomfortable rounds, Shirley noticed the card at the top of the pile was a different color. "What does the orange one mean, Pierce?"

"That we can finally unhook the old ball and chain," he eagerly replied.

Troy looked the old man up and down with distaste. "Pierce, we don't really want to know what you use those cuffs for, OK man?"

"I think he means we don't have to stay with the same partners, Troy," said Annie, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Good news at last."

"It's true," confirmed Shirley, reading the underside of the card before turning it around to show everyone. "The swinging sixties have arrived… God help us all."

"Whatever. Just don't expect me to throw my keys into a bowl," said Jeff.

Annie pulled a face. "Don't expememekeyinnobow," she blabbered in a mocking voice. "That was you just now," she added, glaring at Jeff.

"Well thanks, Nancy Drew, I wouldn't have solved that mystery on my own."

Britta plucked the card from Shirley's hand to read, her face becoming flushed with indignation. "Gals move your cutie patooties once space to the left? Excuse me, but does no one else care that the men aren't being gender-slapped by this dumb game? It's criminal."

"It's just a card, Britta," said Pierce.

"Just a card?" she protested. "I'll give you 'just a card', buddy." Grunting, she tried to rip it in half but the laminated covering was proving far too resilient.

"Britta…" said Troy.

"I got this, Troy," she replied, attempting to tear into it with her teeth. "Oh come on, what's this made out of? Steel?"

"… Britta."

"What?"

Startled, Troy held up his hands in surrender. "I was just going to say that if it bugged you so much I could move instead."

"Oh." She inelegantly scraped away a shred of plastic stuck to her tongue. "Thanks."

"That would make two of us lady-men then," Pierce said glumly. "I just lost a thumb war with Ay-bed."

"I thought you already lost that war to arthritis?" remarked Jeff.

"Wait a minute," said Britta. "If Troy moves, that means Pierce will be with me." She quickly flung the card across the room. "I change my mind. It would be a crime if I didn't move."

"Manslaughter?" proposed Abed.

"No, first degree murder. Because I will mean it."

"Let's get on with things shall we?" said Shirley, conducting them with her pretzel. "Pierce you're with Troy, Britta you're with Jeff and Annie you're with Abed. Get your cutie patooties moving."

Once the group were seated in their new pairs, Troy chose a card from the pile and read it aloud. "Bummer alert! What topic makes you space out when your partner's lip flappin' while the boob tube's on?" He slowly tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "OK, first question: is this about sex? And second question: is it also about outer space? Because you know how I feel about Pluto, guys," he said, voice wobbling. "The little dude never stood a chance."

Jeff sighed. "Please don't turn this into another white crayon saga."

"Nobody cares about the white crayon either, Jeff," Troy stressed. "Nobody! It just sits there. Like the last wax kid getting picked in crayon gym class."

"Can I make a suggestion?" said Shirley, handing Troy a tissue from her purse so he could dab his eyes. "How about I choose the cards and everyone can answer the same question? Then maybe we can finish this game before sunrise." The group mumbled their agreement, so Shirley reached across the board. "Ooh, this one looks interesting and not at all space related," she loudly enthused. "It says, 'How would you react if you were with your partner and you ran into their ex?"

"See, I get that one because it's not in Austin Powers language," said Troy.

Pierce frowned, holding out his hand to have a look. "I don't remember…"

"A lot of things most probably," Shirley hastily interrupted, snatching it out of his grasp. 'Who wants to go first?"

"I would," Jeff offered, gesturing with his scotch, "but there's too many contenders to choose from. Can I have a spinning wheel to decide?"

"Like you can talk, jerk," Britta interjected. "I'd use a spinning wheel too but you wouldn't remember half their names."

"I'm sorry. I know names are important to you." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Let's see, there was Subway, Blade, the Ass-Crack Bandit…"

Troy gasped. "You got with the Ass-Crack Bandit?"

"It was a one-off fling after Annie blew his cover last year!" cried Britta, throwing a pillow at Jeff to make him stop laughing. "We were both feeling down. He said I had a cute armadillo butt… I was just happy he knew what my costume was."

"Butt stuff," fumed Troy, shoving more Cheetos into his mouth. "I was cracking on asses way before that ass-crack ever did."

"Abed! Annie!" said Shirley over-enthusiastically. "How about we get some answers from you two?"

"Umm," mused Annie, resting her head on the back of the sofa. "If I ran into one of Abed's exes I would say… Hi Hilda, how's virtual life treating you?" She winced with a sudden thought. "Have the police found any suspects for your parents' murders yet?" she trailed off awkwardly.

Abed blinked at her. "What?"

"Your turn!"

"Abed, I've got three tips for you," Jeff called out, counting them off on his fingers. "Hey, hello, howdy. The universal call of the tiny-nippled hippie."

"Oh really?" Annie challenged. "Well at least I didn't hook up with my friend's step-daughter ten seconds after I first met her!"

"That was a lifetime ago, Annie."

"Yeah, well so was Vaughn."

"What about when Jeff and Britta banged?" suggested Pierce, receiving evil glares. "Well it's more recent isn't it? Geez, you try and lift the mood…"

Abed fished around in his pocket for a metal case. "Annie's a bit light in the ex department, but I know of someone from this game's era she might like on her list." He took out a candy cigarette and gave Annie a lazy grin. "Don Draper at your…"

"No!" Jeff barked, snapping Annie from her sudden trance. "I mean, uh," he stammered, "that's not really answering the question."

"At least he didn't veto," Annie retorted.

"Tweeting it," said Abed, glancing between his two friends while biting into the stick of candy. "Hashtag, 'burn'."

Annie keenly pointed at him. "Worldwide trend, 'Jeff can suck it'."

"Careful, you'll get put into Twitter jail again."

"Tweeting that."

Troy let out a strangled yelp, making Annie jump. "Would you just quit it already! Tweeting things is mine and Abed's thing! You can't just make our thing your thing, it's not how things work!"

"Troy, calm down," said Annie in concern. "We're just messing around. I'm not trying to take Twitter away from you."

"Well you could have fooled me," he muttered, throwing Abed a hurt look.

"I could try a Twitter thing with you?" Britta offered, striving to cheer him up. "Hi Internet! These are Troy and Britta's tweets you can retweet and favorite and put on the web and… stuff. Hashtag 'tweeting is awesome and dope and insert something about Inspector Spacetime here'." She grinned triumphantly.

"That's way more than one hundred and forty characters," Troy sullenly replied.

Britta's smile faltered. "Why are you being a jag? I'm just trying to help."

"Like I've been trying to help you tonight?" he reminded her. "It's not nice feeling like the white crayon, is it?"

"Jesus, enough with the crayon already!" said Jeff. "This isn't a 'very special' episode of Sesame Street."

"You'd know, Big Bird," shrugged Annie.

"Wait a minute," said Pierce, the cogs in his mind slowly twisting to life. "I always thought the Ass-Crack Bandit was Leonard."

"Ugh! I have some standards you know!" Britta gagged. "We told you fifty times, the Ass-Crack Bandit was…"

"Sweet Lord, I can't take this anymore!" Shirley suddenly yelled out. "I broke a stripper's car antenna and now I'm going straight to hell!" She clutched her purse in despair as everyone fell deathly silent.

"Are we playing match the celebrity to their memoir title?" asked Jeff, trying to ease the tension. "Because you're going to have to give us more clues."

"Shirley?" said Annie, sympathetically rubbing her friend's arm. "I know I've had a lot of alcohol this evening, but I definitely heard the words 'stripper' and 'antenna' in there, right?"

Lowering her head, Shirley nodded unhappily. "I'm a terrible person. I don't deserve to be a judge when I've committed my own crime."

"You're not a real judge, I wouldn't worry," said Abed, earning a reproachful look from Annie.

"That's so weird you've told us that when we're talking about exes," said Troy. "Isn't Andre's ex a stripper?" He sat back in amazement. "What are the odds, man?"

Jeff shared a moment of realization with Annie. "You made that last question up, didn't you, Shirley?" he gently queried his friend.

"Guilty as charged." Shirley fiddled with the zip on her bag. "I just thought that if I asked about everyone else's experiences there might have been a reaction more crazy than mine. And then I would've felt a little less awful."

"I knew I hadn't heard that question before," said Pierce. "Stick that in your memory loss joke pipe and smoke it!"

"Pierce," warned Jeff.

"Right, of course." He composed himself. "Please tell us more about your vandalism, Shirley. Or even just the sexy stripper, we're not fussy."

"It was a couple of days ago," Shirley began. "Andre and I were taking Ben for a walk before dinner when we bumped into My Little Porn-y."

Annie giggled. "Shirley! I can't believe you call her that."

"Oh no, that's her actual stage name," Shirley replied, pursing her lips in displeasure. "Trust me, the names I've got for her aren't fit for a good Christian woman to repeat."

"So what happened to lead to the antenna breakage?" asked Britta, smiling when a thought occurred on her. "Wow, you pulled that on Slater too. I've got to hand it to you, Shirley. You have a really specific brand of justice."

"There might be a superhero comic in your future," said Abed.

Troy's eyes lit up. "Antenna Woman!"

"Captain Car-merica."

"Ooh, Snap-It Shirley, like Wreck-It Ralph!"

"Tweeting it for real," said Abed. He took out his phone, missing the pleased smile flicker across Troy's face.

"Anyway," Jeff prompted, "back to My Little Porn-y's friendship not being magic."

Shirley adjusted her cardigan. "Well, I kept my cool when I found out she'd moved into a house only a few blocks from ours. And I kept my cool when she deliberately kept calling me 'Shelly' while making eyes at my husband." Her voice became cold. "But all my goodwill disappeared when she asked how often I babysit my grandson."

"Oh no she didn't," gasped Jeff.

"Oh she did. And she knew she was pressing my buttons too." Shirley clenched her fists. "It's a uterus, not a crypt!"

"So you busted her car right then and there?" asked Troy. "Dude, that is badass."

"Not quite," said Shirley. "I told Andre that Ben dropped one of his toys, then I looped back around and did it. But now the guilt's eating away at me because I am a better person than this." She felt tears well up in her eyes. "I know I'm a better person than this."

Annie enveloped her in a hug. "You're allowed to make mistakes every once in a while. And this is coming from someone who redefined the word anal-retentive."

"Annie's right," agreed Jeff. "If you're feeling that guilty I'm sure there's something you can do about it. Maybe she needs a new pair of rhinestone-encrusted chaps?"

"I already bought a replacement antenna," admitted Shirley. "That's why I need to be up early tomorrow morning to leave it anonymously on her doorstep. I figured she'd be sleeping like most… night-shift workers do."

"See?" said Troy. "You'll earn your God points back in no time. And just for the record, that stripper lady must be blinded by body glitter because you're way too hot to be a grandma." Shirley smiled at him. "Plus you still have all your own teeth and don't hit people with homemade switches." He paused. "I should really go visit my nanna…"

"Are you going to be OK, Shirley?" said Britta.

"I will be," she replied. "It was just a relief to get things off my chest, so thank you. I didn't mean to bring down the mood and ruin game night, though."

"Don't worry," said Annie ruefully. "I think we all played a part in that. Tonight got a little bit out of hand."

"You know what this calls for," said Abed, pointing finger guns at Jeff. "A Winger speech to bring us home."

Jeff choked on a gulp of his drink. "What?"

"It's Jeff o'clock. Time to take the stand."

"Are you sure, Abed?" he said, wiping spilt alcohol from his chin. "Because you know what you're like with clocks."

"I've gone digital. Let's do this thing."

"Right." Jeff sat up as straight as he could manage, drumming his fingertips on the scotch bottle. "Um… Well, say life gives you lemons. But you're thinking, 'What if I like lemons, you little punk? What if I wanna make a big-ass lemon meringue pie right this second? Where's your God now?' Then life…"

"Jeff?" Pierce interrupted. "Mind if I give this one a try?"

Blinking at him in intrigue, Jeff opened his arms in a welcoming motion. "Be my guest."

The group curiously turned towards Pierce as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Now, Winger may be a drunk with a disturbing lemon fetish…"

"Excuse me?"

"… But he's right about one thing. The universe tends to throw a bunch of crap at you when you least expect it. Maybe it's lemons, maybe it's moral dilemmas or maybe it's multiple divorces." He shrugged one shoulder. "So be it. Because you know what? It's not always about winning or losing – sometimes it's just about participation."

A thought suddenly dawned on Jeff. "You overheard us talking about your Gerber Baby award before, didn't you?" he said sheepishly, as the others cottoned on.

"Every word of it," Pierce replied. "But I'm not mad. I'm damn proud of that award. Because the day I stop participating in life, is the day I cease to exist in this body. And I'm not ready to be vaporized into a preservation pod just yet."

"Aww," Annie and Shirley chimed in.

"Nice job," Jeff acknowledged. "Disturbing Laser Lotus ending and all."

"Agreed," said Abed, earning Pierce's attention. "On a scale of 'uplifting' to 'crazy Wonka boat ride', Jeff was on his way to golden ticket territory."

"Hey, you try being on all the time."

"But you really stepped up to the plate," Abed continued, ignoring Jeff's grumbling. "This officially makes you third on my emergency speech-makers list."

Fighting back a smile, Pierce cleared his throat. "Duly noted, Ay-bed."

Troy rested his elbow on the coffee table. "I guess in the spirit of things, that means everybody won the game tonight?"

"I guess so," said Shirley. "It's probably for the best anyway since you and Britta were kicking everyone's behinds."

"HA-HA! YES! IN ALL YOUR FACES!" Troy whooped, accidentally knocking the board pieces everywhere. "… I'll clean that up."

"We were still in the lead?" said Britta in surprise. "I thought that was just a fluke before."

Troy smiled at her as he picked up some fallen cards. "Told you we make a good team. Like Hawkeye and Black Widow. Garfield and lasagna. Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen…" he frowned suddenly. "I can't remember where I was going with this."

"What about The Inspector and Constable Reggie?" Abed suggested, concentrating on building a pretzel tower on top of his soda can. "We haven't had much time to go on adventures together lately anyway. It makes sense."

"Dude, no it doesn't," Troy replied in faint surprise. "You know that's you and me. Always." He braced one hand to his chest and held the other out for a high-five.

Placing another pretzel on the pile, Abed looked up at his friend. "Cool," he said, returning the gesture. "Cool, cool, cool."

"Those are pretty good teams," Britta conceded to Troy, while playing with the novelty corkscrew. "It's just, I haven't really been in a winning team before, y'know? I usually pick ones that aren't good for me, or aren't compatible. Or teams I self-sabotage because I think I'm better off alone."

"So… what's it like being in this team?" asked Troy cautiously.

"It's different," Britta admitted. "Nice, different." She knelt down on the floor next to him and helped pick up the scattered tokens. "Think I might stay on it for a while," she said, giving him a playful shove, "Hawkeye."

"Awesome," Troy grinned, nudging her shoulder, "Black Widow."

"Britta, you do realize you're not comparing yourselves to a bird and a spider, right?" said Jeff.

"Uh, duh-doy. Even I've seen The Avengers," she gloated. "So how about you shut your lemon meringue pie hole, pointy-face."

Troy clutched his stomach. "Man, all this lasagna and pie talk is making me hungry."

"How? You just ate your weight in Cheetos," said Annie incredulously.

"What's your point? Hold up, are you calling me fat?"

Stretching out his legs, Pierce slowly stood from his armchair. "There should be heaps of leftovers in the kitchen if anyone wants a snack. Just don't ask me how to operate the microwave; that thing's harder to work out than a woman. Am I right, ladies?" he chuckled, flinching when Shirley swung her purse at him.

"I can show you how to use it, Pierce," said Abed. "As long as you have buttered noodles."

"Good luck with that," scoffed Troy. "I tried to show him how to set the time on his phone once and nearly punched my own face."

"I'm sure it'll be OK. Or like an episode of The Odd Couple, I'm down with either."

Rummaging around in his pockets, Pierce found a few loose quarters and grabbed Abed's hand, placing them into his palm. "Here, Ay-bed…" he said awkwardly. "May as well play some pinball later while you're waiting for your weird noodles."

"Pierce," said Britta in astonishment. "Did we just witness a good deed?"

"Your mom's a good deed," he said gruffly, stalking towards the door. "Are you people coming or what?"

As the group began to be ushered out, Jeff gently grasped Annie's arm. "Can you hang back for a sec?" She raised an eyebrow. "Please?" he added. "Unless you really want to go and witness round eighty-five of Pierce versus technology."

Annie hesitated before grudgingly perching on the arm of the sofa. "I'm not sure I want to witness what's about to happen here either to be honest."

"Can we just… What the hell?" Jeff and Annie cringed as the room suddenly dimmed and sparkly patterns of light danced across the walls.

"Mood lighting," Pierce winked, pointing up at the colorful disco ball in the room.

"Pierce, we don't need mood lighting," Annie sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We need normal, non-hallucinogenic lighting."

"Did someone say Moonlighting?" asked Abed, popping his head around the door. "If this is a David and Maddie moment, I'm going to need popcorn instead of noodles."

"No popcorn, no lighting!" said Jeff. "Out, the both of you. Or I will go crazy Wonka boat ride in here."

"Fine," said Pierce. "Should I leave the handcuffs or…"

"Goodbye, Pierce!"

When the boys finally retreated down the hall, Jeff turned towards Annie, who was grimacing. "Are you OK?"

She shook her head. "I feel kind of woozy. On the plus side, now I know what it's like to live inside a lava lamp."

"There's a plus side?"

"Just make yourself useful and fix the lights would you?" She slunk off the sofa and onto the leopard-print rug to lie down on her back. "I'm going to have a rest on this zoo animal."

Approaching the light switch, Jeff scoffed. "That'd be right."

"What?"

"The man can't work a microwave but he's got approximately one thousand settings for his disco room of pain." In confusion, Jeff prodded the nearest button on the panel, causing the colors to spin even faster.

"Ugh, we want the opposite of that," groaned Annie.

"No? Really?" He hit a few more buttons, finally returning the room to a normal dimmer-light setting… but accompanied by a Barry White soundtrack. Jeff stood there panicked. "I'm scared that if I press one more button a sex swing's going to descend from the ceiling."

"It's fine, just leave it," said Annie, curling onto her side. Folding one arm underneath her head, she frowned when she realized Jeff was clumsily lowering himself to the ground to lie next to her. "What are you doing?"

"You mean I'm not rock climbing?" he teased, shifting around to get comfortable. "Wow, am I embarrassed right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I agreed to hang back doesn't mean I'm still not annoyed with you, Jeff."

"I know," he acknowledged. "But I really want to address the veto elephant in the room."

"See, by my calculation there's only one Dumbo in here and he's distinctly non-elephant shaped."

Jeff rolled onto his side to face her. "Annie."

Exhaling wearily, Annie untucked the card from her blouse and placed it between them on the rug. Without looking she read the question aloud, the words echoing in her memory. "Going to the chapel, wedding bells in the air – what vows would be recited between this groovy pair?" Annie glanced across at Jeff, who remained quiet. "Anytime you want to start this 'addressing' thing is fine by me."

He gave her a small smile. "Well, first of all, I'm sorry if I made you feel like crap. It wasn't my intention."

"OK," she responded carefully, tracing her finger around one of the leopard spots. "Go on."

"It's just, that was a really loaded question."

"Because you're a commitment-phobe."

"Yeah, because… wait, what?" he sputtered. "That's why you thought I vetoed?"

"What other reason is there?" she shrugged. "You may have come a long way from 'season one Jeff' as Abed would say, but there's still bits of the old you lingering about." Annie smiled ruefully. "And deep down I get it. That's just who you are. But where was the harm in playing along for fun?"

"The harm," he began, propping his head up on his hand, "starts with our nosy study group, and ends with our nosy study group."

Her brow crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"Annie, you saw what they were like tonight. We kept getting sent to the naughty corner by Shirley for interacting!" He snorted out a laugh. "And if you haven't noticed, Pierce has set us up in his Boogie Nights den like a demented fairy godfather. Doesn't that drive you crazy?"

"It does actually," she quietly admitted. "Sometimes it's like we can't breathe near each other without getting hassled."

He nodded. "So when that question came up I just knew those five idiots would have a field day with it. Loveable idiots," he amended. "But idiots all the same."

Letting that thought settle in, Annie buried her face in her hand. "Oh my God, could you imagine," she moaned. "Shirley alone would have set the tone."

"Abed would have listed his favorite TV weddings," added Jeff.

"There would've been some crass, misinformed comment from Pierce about not wearing white," said Annie, blushing slightly. "Britta chiming in that the bride should wear whatever she wanted."

Jeff chuckled. "Then Troy would go on about us practically being joined together like magnets anyway and finish off with some random Olsen twins comparison."

"Magnets, pfft," scoffed Annie. "Like you said, they're loveable idiots."

"Exactly. No idea what they're talking about."

Annie and Jeff smiled at one another while Barry White's voice reverberated around them ("Livin' in ecstasy when you lay down next to me…"). "Wow," said Jeff. "They're... oddly convenient lyrics." Feeling self-conscious, they both turned onto their backs to stare up at the ceiling.

"So," said Annie, playing with a loose thread on her skirt, "not a commitment-phobe thing then, huh?"

"Not this time," Jeff replied. "And I don't know. Maybe not any time soon either. Possibly." He folded his hands behind his head. "Baby steps seem to be the way to go." Hearing Annie chuckle softly, Jeff smiled to himself. "Gee, thanks for the encouragement," he teased.

"I'm sorry," said Annie, laughingly. "It's just, honesty hour with Jeff Winger. Who would have thought?"

"True." He put on a bad radio announcer's voice. "Honesty hour on 103.7 Greendale FM, brought to you by alcohol and my enormous therapist bill."

"Well whatever it is, it's good."

"Thanks."

Annie tapped her feet in time to the music. "Jeff?"

"Hmm?"

"In the spirit of honesty hour…"

"OK, I'll admit it. I do have Taylor Swift songs on my iPod," he jokingly confessed. "She just, like, really understands my boy trouble."

"Preaching to the choir," she said with a smile. "No, what I was going to say was, in the spirit of honesty hour… what do you think your answer might have been? Y'know," she licked her lips nervously. "To the veto question."

He swallowed roughly, cringing at how loud it sounded. "That's a tough one. It's not something you really want to ruin, is it."

"As long as you don't start with, 'Webster's dictionary defines…' I'm sure you'll be alright."

Jeff heard the teasing in her voice and relaxed. "Good advice."

"I guess if I were thinking about vows I'd say something about how cool it was to be sharing the day with my best friend," said Annie, turning her head to look at Jeff. "And that I'd promise to always buy your favorite hair product, even if that meant re-mortgaging the house." She smirked as he twisted around to face her, pretending to be offended.

"Well I'd promise to always have a supply of purple pens, just in case of Hulk-smash emergencies." He propped his head up with his hand again while Annie mirrored his movement.

"I'd promise to tolerate your relationship with the other important thing in your life." She giggled when Jeff appeared baffled. "Your phone."

"In that case, I promise to tolerate the world's supply of mismatched cushions you'd no doubt want on the bed." She poked her tongue out at him. "Seriously, though, how many does one person need? Is it like the ark, except you're saving two of every pillow?"

"Hey, if you knew how comfy my bed was, you wouldn't be complaining."

"Maybe I'll have to find out one day," he said, enjoying the way her face tinged with pink.

Emboldened by the wine, Annie scooted closer to him. "Maybe you will."

They gazed at one another before Jeff reached out to smooth a strand of hair behind her ear. "I guess too there'd be something in there about always making sure you felt safe and protected."

"Same," she said softly, leaning into his hand. "I am black belt in karate after all," she added, eyes twinkling in mischief.

"I don't know about you, but they sound like pretty awesome vows to me."

"Agreed. But there's just one thing you're forgetting."

"What's that?"

She tilted up her head. "You may now kiss the bride."

Grinning, Jeff closed the space between them and met her lips with his, kissing her slowly at first then drawing her body close as their kisses became more fevered. Caught in the moment, Annie pushed Jeff back so she was lying half across his chest, one leg hooked around his. "Black belt kung-fu moves," Jeff murmured against her mouth. "Completely unfair."

Annie laughed. "I'm sure you'll survive," she replied, before sighing in pleasure as Jeff traced his lips down her neck, lingering on her pulse. Running her hands through his hair, she pouted when he stilled his actions but soon realized why when she heard voices echo down the hall. She lifted her head to look at him, smiling regretfully. "I kind of forgot where we were for a second."

He ran his palm across her back. "Same." The bass of a new Barry White song suddenly kicked in, making them burst into laughter. "OK, now I remember."

"The lighting, the fancy rug. I think we're one step away from a Mills and Boon front cover." Annie felt Jeff's chest rumbling against hers as they continued to chuckle.

"Ay-bed," Pierce's voice rang out. "You never said who the other two speech-makers were on the list before me."

"Coach Taylor, Friday Night Lights," Abed's voice replied, matter-of-factly. "And sober Jeff."

Annie reluctantly sat up as Jeff did the same. "We better quit while we're ahead before we get an unwanted audience."

"Webster's dictionary defines loveable idiots as…" Jeff laughed as Annie whacked his knee. "Here, let me help you up. And by help you I mean can you help me, because I think my spine has broken lying down here."

Holding onto each other's arms, they managed to stand up without too much distress. Smoothing down her hair, Annie smiled coyly at him as he rubbed his lower back. "Next time maybe you should try lay on some mismatched pillows. I hear that's good."

"Oh really?" he said playfully. "Do you know someone who could help me with that?"

She grinned. "I'll keep you posted."

End

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