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There is stew in the kitchen. There is a lot of it, probably enough for everyone. Or for most for a couple of meals.

As long as Steve doesn't eat it all, anyway.

Beef stew. Apparently some Star Spangled Man With A Plan has been raving about it to everyone he can.

Steve, if you eat it all, I will make you sing the song.

Everyone else, you are welcome to it.

Okay... Bucky gave you away.

What song?

Just so you know. You are going to that ball.

This human clothing is far too uncomfortable, I will not be wearing it. I am also in need of clean water, as whatever is coming out of the pipes in my room has no right to call itself water.

Dear Miss Molly,

If your dance card for the upcoming ball is not already spoken for, I would be delighted if you would do me the honor of reserving me the first dance of the evening. If you have already given your word to another, then I would like to put in my name for either the subsequent waltz or Virginia Reel (provided those forms of dance are not too antiquated for this event.)

Sincerely,

Dr. J.H. Holliday