Someone's not dressed for this at all, but it's not like Mikey's particularly aware of it as he drools on the cushions of the bench, deafening snores, and random words slipping from his lips in his lulling slumber. If only, at least, until he hears a woman's voice in a stern tone, vocabulary much more advanced than what he is used to. A yawn marks his return to consciousness, and a glare punctuates it.

Not a single moment of peace for him, goddamnit.

"Take it outside, some of us are fucking sleeping."