[Of course. Of frickin course someone signed him up for this. If he could roll his eyes any harder, his eyes would do somersaults in his skull.

At least whoever did it didn't make it blatantly obvious who it was this time. He can't pin the blame on Ayame for this one.

He still struts up to the stage anyway in a sweet pair of high heeled boots, dressed in his Holy Diver outfit since he'd planned to swing by that club after he was done here. For a bit of an extra show-off factor (not that this will amount to anything, he figures), he waves his hand to make a chair of purple ice appear for him to sit in, crossing his legs in just the right way to really show them off at a good angle.]

If anyone thinks that doin' this is gonna get free booze out of me, sorry, but it's unlikely.

And I don't suppose just straight up buyin' myself out is an option? I got plenty more cash I can throw to the charity.