"My God, what on Earth is that noise?" Douglas exclaimed, stopping short just outside the door to Martin's flat. "It sounds like he's got a cat in the blender. Are you sure this is the right place, Arthur?"

"Yep," Arthur nodded enthusiastically. "Can I do the knocking, Douglas? Please?"

"Yes, all right." Douglas stood back as Arthur bounded up to the door, nearly collided with it, then rapped smartly on it with his knuckles. "Skipper!" he shouted. "Skip, it's Arthur and Douglas! Skip!"

After a brief pause, the door opened.

There was then a stupidly long stretch of time during which Martin looked uncomfortably at the ceiling and Arthur struggled under the weight of Douglas, who had partially collapsed due to uncontrollable laughter.

"Martin - Martin - " Douglas finally managed to wheeze, "Just what the hell are you wearing?"

"Nothing that unusual," Martin said defensively, crossing his arms. "It's just a Sex Pistols shirt."

This caused Douglas to burst out laughing all over again. Martin waited it out, surreptitiously attempting to smooth down his hair into something presentable.

"I'm sorry - I'm sorry," Douglas gasped, wiping a tear from his eye. "There are some things that are just too beautiful for this world."

"Yes, ha ha," Martin snapped. "Any particular reason you two decided to - "

"What on Earth are you listening to in here?" Douglas demanded, his eyes shining with mirth as he pushed effortlessly past Martin and stopped dead in his tracks. His expression slowly evolved into that of a man who was currently experiencing the single most confusing moment of his life.

The smallish flat was crammed with records, stacked from floor to ceiling in a manner suggesting that they might be the only thing keeping the ceiling off the ground. A record player next to the sofa was giving off tidal waves of sound that were surely audible from the nearest space station. The coffee table was home to several empty beer bottles, and - Douglas actually rubbed his eyes at this point - a small glass ash tray.

Martin crossed the room, stopped the record player, and turned to face Douglas with his arms tightly folded. "Well?"

"Well what?" Douglas asked, blinking. The room seemed to ring with the cessation of noise.

"Aren't you going to say something horribly sarcastic and unkind? I haven't got all day."

Douglas cast another glance around the room and cleared his throat. "Ahem. A job's just come through, we need to be ready for takeoff in forty minutes. Cairo. We tried calling, but you weren't answering your phone."

Martin stared. "Oh." There was a moment of complete silence. "All right, I suppose I'll get changed, then. Just a moment." He paused again, as if waiting for insults to leap unexpectedly from Douglas' mouth like ninjas. "Er. Right. Okay." He disappeared into the bedroom.

Arthur, who had been waiting out in the hall all this time, finally risked poking his head in. His face broke into an enormous grin. "Wow, this place is brilliant! Ah... are you all right, Douglas? You look sort of wobbly."

"I believe I've just had a flash of insight concerning the human race, Arthur."

"Oh, wow! What was it?"

"People are not always exactly what they seem." Douglas turned and joined Arthur in the hall to wait.