“This stream of inane chatter is giving me a headache,” Illya hissed, sotto voce, from behind his menu.
“At least we’re sitting down.” Napoleon sighed wearily; after a morning escorting elderly ladies on a shopping trip, he preferred facing Thrush rifles.
“I don’t suppose they might compromise and agree to visit a museum instead of Macy’s after lunch.”
“What in Heaven’s name are you young men whispering about?” one of the matrons scolded from across the table.
Napoleon winced. “I was just, ah, suggesting my partner save room for dessert. The cheesecake here was nominated for New York City’s finest.”
“This stream of inane chatter is giving me a headache,” Illya hissed, sotto voce, from behind his menu.
“At least we’re sitting down.” Napoleon sighed wearily; after a morning escorting elderly ladies on a shopping trip, he preferred facing Thrush rifles.
“I don’t suppose they might compromise and agree to visit a museum instead of Macy’s after lunch.”
“What in Heaven’s name are you young men whispering about?” one of the matrons scolded from across the table.
Napoleon winced. “I was just, ah, suggesting my partner save room for dessert. The cheesecake here was nominated for New York City’s finest.”
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A good use of words and a fun little scene - poor Napoleon & Illya.
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Hahahaha, well played, Napoleon, and well done, you!
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