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I think I just like the term spitroasted. Go on, Google image search it with safe search off.

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(Saturday. EXT: sidewalk outside Funky Harvest, all have drinks)

MH: You have a real knack for getting us free food. Maxine likes.
EB: I can't believe you're still drinking that.
JH: It's good!
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MH: This is Wallace and Simon's place, right here, actually. Mind if we go up for a bit?
EB: You go ahead, just make sure you're back at my place by five.
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MH: Aw, come on! They won't bite you, I promise.
EB: I have no desire to stand around watching you get spitroasted for the next three hours.
(Jamie is looking increasingly uncomfortable)
MH: Jeez, Ellen. I promise I won't make you watch us fuck, okay?
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(INT: the trio is in the building, ascending a staircase)
MH: I may, however, ask you to close your eyes, plug your ears and hum for about ten minutes.
EB: How very courteous of you.