Martha sighed and popped up to a sitting position.
To escape the smiling innkeeper role, he plodded barefoot out back to the small patio, fired up the barbeque, popped the cap on the first of the last three Fat Tire Ales and stretched out on Cynthia's chaise.
Fred O'Connor popped back into the room waving money.
She popped open her halter, nearly spilling the contents, and took out her cigarettes, but didn't light one.
She reviewed the numbers that popped up on her screen.