I'm here in the closet, as it were, and I must tell you, it's quite busy in here. Full to brim with people so stylish, so chic, they don't even exist... I am dead serious. If closets were military hangars, this closet would be area 5---
--oh no, here comes the short Japanese fellow, and he is drunk... more drunk than any Japanese man should be, no, scratch that, more drunk than any man should be. Oh, I think he's trying to say something.
"I--gjgigh. I l---guhhh".
No. He's out, out like a light. Poor fellow. He tried to do a karate kick, but hit tripped over a table and fell. He's spilled some tea on one of Karl's suit jackets, and Karl is furious---
--Karl is taking off the glasses
no, what is he doing?
Interesting, I didn't know there were windows in the closet.
Goodbye Yohji. We'll miss you.
(I wonder what story we're on?)