[Merton has sent the better part of the week trying to research what the hell sort of a place they're in. He can't find a half-way decent computer anywhere, so he's resorted to spending most of his days in the bookstore reading everything he can get his hands on. He was so busy he barely noticed a week had passed until a note was innocently left on the desk in their hotel room, asking them to pay up or leave, please.
They're both getting ready for the morning when Merton slides the note over, a nervous look on his face.]
I'd call it something like an eviction notice, but that would involve us even choosing to live here in the first place.