It has everything to do with our society thinger, mate, and very little to do with proper manners. Or have you already quite forgotten our plans to infiltrate and otherwise ruin high society!
This is quite true. Perhaps we ought to hire out for a secretary, just to coordinate our schemes--but then, we'd have to find someone that we trusted deeply, and I can't say too many names come immediately to mind. Anyways, then we'd have to share the profits. Nasty business.
No, but, really, mate. How d'you feel about posh parties? The ruination of posh parties, I mean.
[A slow grin starts on his face, and he leans forward slightly.]
I think they're one o' me favorite thin' to do, as a matter o' fact. You wouldn't happen t'be thinkin' o' this fancy party that's comin' up in a few days, are ya?
Why, it's as if you've read my mind, Mr. Kelly! Seems as if they're very nearly asking for it, doesn't it. And so near to my birthday, too--no, we're quite obligated to attend and make it a bit more interesting, wouldn't you say.
It's practically a service to the community. What're they gonna do without us-- eat little food on sticks and talk about borin' stuff for hours. Horrible. We'll be disappointin' the whole island if we don't show up.
I have several particulars in mind, actually, and all of them a better use of time than food on sticks. For starters, our showing face at an event like this will be enough. We may have to go in disguise, and we may have to act dignified, but once we're indoors, the world, as they say, is our bloody delicious oyster.
And then there's the usual, the classics. Putting things in punches, be it insects or otherwise--itching powders, strewn casually about--releasing small animals beneath the tables. I always like the illusion of false chairs and doors that won't open and things, too, that's good for a bit of confusion. Cups that bite noses. But let's not limit ourselves to the usual, let's be a bit creative here, shall we?
Oh, nah, let's spike the punch, get em all drunk. We could set crickets free in the back, but save that til last, cuz that's the most noticeable and we'll have to run after that. Tacks on the floor o' the bathroom? Buckets o' water put on the top o' a door? Ooh, we should do that one on a lotta doors, considerin' everyone's gonna be dressed to the nines.
Lesse, what else . . . could salt everyone's drinks, that'd be fun to see. Specially if they's too polite to spit it back out. Spice their food . . . I like the false chairs, that sounds fun.
Spicing the food a bit be simple, as long as we positioned ourselves close to wherever it's coming from--the kitchen or something. Or we could just mix a bit of spice into the saltshakers themselves.
We'd have to be careful with any of the larger bits of it, of course. Wouldn't do, to be chucked out before the night was over. Only I don't think we could be chucked out, as they said they were locking everyone in, right?
Are they? [Griiiiiiiin.] I didn't bother listenin' to the damn thin'. Anyway, long as we're careful and don't draw attention to ourselves-- that means watchin' your mouth, Mister Black, and me mine-- nobody oughta notice if we're runnin' around the place doin' this or that.
You don't need me to tell me to watch my mouth, Mr. Kelly, I'm the veritable picture of good manners, when I so choose. It's you that ought to beware.
Then again, you do profess to be quite at home in a tuxie-ee-do, so perhaps you'll be able to hold your own. D'you know about forks? Should we send out for etiquette lessons, so you can blend in a bit?
There, there, mate. Buck up. You'll learn in time, and soon you'll even be allowed out in civilised company, without having to be chained up or anything. Your day will come.
Yeah--American, perhaps, and a bit of some vague eastern European something. And French. I can do a false French accent like you wouldn't believe. What's it that you do, then?
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No, but, really, mate. How d'you feel about posh parties? The ruination of posh parties, I mean.
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I think they're one o' me favorite thin' to do, as a matter o' fact. You wouldn't happen t'be thinkin' o' this fancy party that's comin' up in a few days, are ya?
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Got anythin' particular in mind?
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And then there's the usual, the classics. Putting things in punches, be it insects or otherwise--itching powders, strewn casually about--releasing small animals beneath the tables. I always like the illusion of false chairs and doors that won't open and things, too, that's good for a bit of confusion. Cups that bite noses. But let's not limit ourselves to the usual, let's be a bit creative here, shall we?
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Lesse, what else . . . could salt everyone's drinks, that'd be fun to see. Specially if they's too polite to spit it back out. Spice their food . . . I like the false chairs, that sounds fun.
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We'd have to be careful with any of the larger bits of it, of course. Wouldn't do, to be chucked out before the night was over. Only I don't think we could be chucked out, as they said they were locking everyone in, right?
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Then again, you do profess to be quite at home in a tuxie-ee-do, so perhaps you'll be able to hold your own. D'you know about forks? Should we send out for etiquette lessons, so you can blend in a bit?
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Anyway, what're we gonna do for disguises? I can do a different accept; can you?
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Yeah--American, perhaps, and a bit of some vague eastern European something. And French. I can do a false French accent like you wouldn't believe. What's it that you do, then?
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Irish, o'course, and standard American-- could probably do British, livin' with you now. Let's hear your American, come on.
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