Ransom had woken up, noticed the guy in bed next to him (which, unexpected) and had reached for the nearest sweater to toss on and retreat to...living room. Kitchen. Somewhere he could get answers because he wasn't generally a blackout drunk kind of guy.

And that was where a corgi stopped in mid joyous bounce to lower himself to the ground, growling.

So Ransom was just going to hang out up here on the top of the couch and hate absolutely everything.

"What the hell?" he yelped.

[OOC: And Steve is Ransom Drysdale from Knives Out! Enjoy the sweaters. Ignore the douchiness.]