Ooh, what's this? ANOTHER early update and the seventh one this week?

Deer Luhan,

Whoops.

Leigh

If D.O. had been in the dorm, then I could guarantee there would have been absolutely no chance of Tao carrying out Lay’s challenge to see whether or not he needed new clothes.  On the other hand, apparently being knee-deep in designer brands from hallway to kitchen sink to cupboard behind the toilet’s water cistern (Lay and Kris firmly locked their bedroom doors, and with good reason) was a good thing, because it allowed Tao time to carry out his annual wardrobe purge with meticulous perfection.  And the rest of EXO-M got a lot of very, very fashionable castoffs.

“I don’t think I can cope with this,” I muttered to Xiumin as I perched precariously on the back of the sofa in lotus position, attempting to meditate my mind to some form of peace.  “I thought I liked clothes, but I genuinely can’t do this.”

He patted my shoulder reassuringly.  “It’s only for a few days.  And Tao’ll let you have your pick out of all the stuff he doesn’t want.”

“A few days?”  The mere prospect made me feel dizzy.  “Xiumin, my mum complains about the size of my floordrobe, but this… this….”  I just gestured at the garments all around me.  What made it worse was that they weren’t even strewn around messily.  “Is his closet the Tardis or has he done an Inkheart on Hermione Granger and got her to charm it with that weird spell she put on her bag in the last Harry Potter book?  Where does he keep all these?”

Xiumin caught me before my frustrated gestures could tip me off the sofa.

“It’s a mystery I don’t think we’re ever going to find out.  But relax, Kris usually decides it’s a good idea to get out of the dorm around now.”

Bang on bull’s eye, Kris waded out of the kitchen.  “Lay, Tao, we’re going out!  Can there be a path to get to the important places by the time we’re back, please?”

“Sure!” Tao’s voice called back from somewhere in the bathroom.  “Return next year!”

Lay deigned to pop his head around the door.

“Isn’t that a little optimistic, Kris?  We’re going to have to pile things up in one of the important rooms to do that.  Would you prefer not to eat or not to go to the toilet for the next couple of days?”

Kris shrugged uneasily.  “I can only guarantee keeping the manager out of here for an evening.  He’s going to lynch us if he sees this.”

There was a rustle of clothing from beside him and a heap of garments surged out of the sea of raiment all around, clutching an iPod in one hand and two Tom Clancy games in the other.

“Oh, good,” said Chen.  “Is it time to get out of the Devil’s Prada Armageddon?”

Kris paused to pluck a pair of Calvin Klein boxers off Chen’s left ear.  “It’s The Devil Wears Prada and I think you’ll actually find most of it’s Armani and Gucci.”

“Great film,” I put in.

“Dolce and Gabbana!” Tao yelled from the bathroom.  “Gucci was last year!”

Kris rolled his eyes.  “Of course.  I forgot.  How could I?”  He looked around and then brushed a leopard-print bra off Chen’s hips.  “Tao, why do you have a— actually, I don’t want to know.”  He surveyed the mess again.  “Well, I don’t know about anybody else, but I am going to need a lot of alcohol in my system before I’m prepared to come back here.”

“Ditto,” said Chen in English.

“Me three,” agreed Xiumin, also in English.

“Aw, guys!” I complained, putting on my best Canadian accent as I was pretty sure Luhan wasn’t going to speak with a British accent and had probably learnt most of his English from Kris.  “You’ve taken all the witticisms.  What am I supposed to say?”

“Your English has improved,” Kris noted with a raised eyebrow.

Oh yes, hugely.  I scoffed inwardly.  Xiumin barely bit back a snicker.

“Maybe, we’re following the leader?” Chen suggested, half-singing the song as Kris turned and we struggled after him towards the door, Kris ruffling the cap of his stuffed alpaca as we passed it.  It was only afterwards that I noticed Ace was actually wearing three caps on top of the one that had actually been attached to him.  Clearly, nothing was safe from Tao and his clothes.

“Kris,” I said, employing my best Mandarin as we waited for the lift at the end of the corridor, “can I impose a limit on what Chen has to drink?  I don’t want a repeat of New Year’s Eve.”

“Sure,” said Kris.  “I intend to get too drunk to look after him, anyway.”

“Bambi!” Chen exclaimed, pouting.  “That’s hardly fair!”

“You trying dealing with yourself when you’re drunk then, Donald Duck,” I retorted.

“Oh my God,” groaned Xiumin.  “You guys did not just start a round of Disney insults.”

“But he looks like a deer!”

“And he pouts like a duck!”

Kris intervened, forcing our pointing arms back to our sides.  “Now, now, children.  Luhan, Chen means you’re beautiful.  Chen, Donald Duck is one of Luhan’s favourites, so that can hardly be taken as an insult.”

“But I’m manly, not a baby deer!”

“Kris, calling me a duck is practically calling me a quack!”

I saw Xiumin shaking his head out of the corner of my eye and methodically pressing all the buttons on the elevator as though it was going to release some of his frustration.

Kris sighed loudly.  “Chen, you’re not exactly going to help your case if you keep pouting like that.”

The lift halted on the twenty-ninth floor and the doors pinged open.  After fifteen or so seconds, when nobody got on, they slid shut again and we proceeded to the twenty-eighth floor.  Xiumin had slumped aga