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[discocop]

[There is some vague, sad singing on the line. The words are slurred beyond recognition. Actually, he may just be making melodic moaning sounds.

After a moment, the horrific noise gives way to a beep, ready to record your message.]

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[discocop]

[Ah, that roaring siren call. The detective recognizes it instantly, the same sound that had broken him out of his deeply existential foray into the realm between life and death, and woken him to his life of... well. Being a detective apparently. And whatever the hell these last few months have been.

And now it wakes him again, tag-teaming his brain alongside the pounding of a hangover. Why is there a god damned Coupris Kineema on his street? Who can afford such things in this town? Kim? Kim is here! They set up a meeting! Damn!

He springs into action, throwing on the clothes he wore last night that still reek of alcohol. But there's literally no cleaner clothes within easy reach. It takes a minute or so, but he weaves his way through the mess of bottles on his floor and finally arrives at the lobby. He pushes open the front door with all the finesse of walking garbage.]

Ah, Kim! Right on- [He stumbles forward, his balance thrown off by the sunlight digging nails into his eyes. Should have brought shades. There's a wheeze in his voice as he resumes.] - Right on time. Punctual and dependable as always.