A brown head of hair pokes through the tent flaps as Fern forces her way into the tent. There's not a lot of room as it is, but she's making her own space, even if she has to jab an elbow into someone's kidney to do so. "No door, couldn't knock," she comments, settling down in front of the only path of escape. For a moment, it's not clear whether she heard their conversation, but just when it seems safe, she pipes up, "Shits and giggles is a lot of the reason I do anything. I'm also a sucker for a six pack." Fern looks over to Heathcliff to see if he's imploding yet, and decides to fan the flame. "So you wanted to ask me to the dance?"