"This isn't work, it's just making sure things function adequately throughout the night," Donnie replies from where he's squatting beside the offending machine, a panel open, tools out. "They just don't make fog machines like they used to."

He doesn't sound particularly annoyed, tongue sticking out slightly as he tightens a few things within the small compartment. Then he flicks a switch, the machine sputtering before a stream of fog begins oozing out. "There we go!" Donnie says with a grin, slapping the panel cover back on.