You reach under the bed, grabbing the two pieces of wood that you remember (if a little hazily) from the previous night. You stand, trying your best not to sway, holding them crossed in front of you as the door swings open.
Michelle steps into the room, stopping dead (which certainly seems appropriate) as she sees your makeshift crucifix. After a moment, she shakes her head, a rueful smile on her face.
"Hate to break it to you, champ," she says, "but holy symbols don't work on zombies." She subjects the rugged cross to another brief examination. "Even ones with a sharpened point at the base, which I'll admit is a thoughtful touch."
You drop your arms to your sides, letting the timber fall to the floor. "Worth a try," you admit.
After a moment, Michelle gives you a bright smile, apparently not suffering from any of the ill effects that you're currently enjoying.
"Well, top of the morning to you, mortal," she says, the smile becoming a grin as she casts a pair of golden eyes over you. "You look about ready for the slab."
"Whatever helps me fit in," you say, but even sarcasm's coming with an effort this morning.
"Well, at least your sense of humor survived the first night," Michelle says, giving you an approving nod. "Now, if the rest of you is going to pull through, you need to get ready and have some breakfast."
At the thought of eating, your stomach churns. Still, it's probably not a good idea to face the day with both a hangover and no food inside you.
Michelle looks at you, her eyebrows raised in amused inquiry. "Are you sure you're all right?"