Murphy blinks, lashes fluttering. "You're not going to a holiday party or something?" He nods at her. "Or do you just wear fancy dresses for the hell of it?"

He goes quiet at her next question. "A kettle," Murphy repeats, unsure of what she's asking for a second before the realization sets in. "Oh -- Yeah." With a sigh, Murphy opens the door for her to come in. "It's one of those electric ones."