((Cheered by the appearance of THE SUN after all the rain Riverton's been getting, but still reeling from his surreal encounter with CHER'S WIGS, CYRIL picks up the precious postcard that will reunite our two wefted and emoliated lovers in sweet smelling harmony, and sets off on the long trek to the Riverton laundromat...))
((It's been a long day, however, and after 3 effen hours looking for the damn laundomat, CYRIL decides it's time to hitch a lift from one of the passing trucks...))
((A kindly but confused gas station CLERK picks him up and spends the rest of the journey muttering something about
definitely cutting down on the ganja now...))
((...and after placing the postcard on the doorstep of the flat above the laundromat, CYRIL accepts the welcome offer of a lift home from the CLERK.))
CLERK:
**Cyril... Can ah call ya CYRIL? Cyril, ya don't happen ta knaw any tubes a talkin' butt lotion, do ya??**