[There's Oscar, peeking in through the door and pointedly not engaging with any of the parties despite the fact that he obviously lived in the obnoxious halls of the Clock House. He carried with him a tray of refreshments-- home made lemonade with the syrup he had made from an infusion of the few edible wild flowers that cropped up on the outskirts of town-- which he carefully set on a table nearby.

Frowning thoughtfully, he took out a notebook and began taking a tally of the people chiming in on the feed.]

....We're really gonna need to fix up our first aid kit at this rate. hmm.

It's gonna be hard getting snacks for this many people, too.

[Don't mind him. He's being a mother hen-- as he should-- and would be easy to find for anyone wandering around.

He had no fears. It wasn't like Johnny Lawrence knew he had been the guy talking smack anonymously on the network.]