The sound of songbirds roused Starlequin from a lovely dream of wine and pastries being served to him by beautiful, large-chested women. With bleary vision he checked the small alarm clock that sat on the nightstand and concluded it was far too early in the day to be bothered with nonsense like consciousness, and so he took the only action a reasonable man could. He reached under his pillow and withdrew a very large blunderbuss, aimed in the general vicinity of the windows, and opened fire on the squawking little buggers. Whether the rounds struck true or not, the blast had the happy effect of rendering Starlequin temporarily deaf, which condition he took as an excellent excuse to return to slumber.
A few hours later Starlequin woke, dressed, and rolled himself back down the hallway to find the other guests already discussing the previous evening's evils. He listened for as long as possible, but nothing much of an incriminatory nature was discovered. He would have to resort to more direct, foolproof methods. While the others continued their discussions and accusations, Starlequin wheeled over to a little-used corner and withdrew a small silver coin from one pocket. This he began to flip, once and again and again.
"Eenie, meenie, miney, moe," Starlequin muttered, "I think Persephone might be undead, yo..."