"Then I still owe you a jellyfish," he says seriously. "I don't think I've ever heard of anyone that good. Even McGonagall may not have been up to it."
"We should have consolidated our forces on that island Dahlia and I poisoned," Rus tells him, looking unhappy. "It was isolated and small enough to be easily defensible."
"I'll try to warn you, but I can't promise anything." He looks daggers at T2.
Rus struggles to control himself, gritting his teeth. Alf and T1 look both interested and alarmed. "I don't like being called a cheat," he seethes, taking a wing and biting it savagely. For added effect, he takes the small bone and crunches it in his teeth. T2, who had hesitantly taken another wing, hurriedly puts his back. "I'm not hungry," he not-quite-whispers.
"Take it easy," T1 says, trying to defuse the situation. He gives Alf a withering glance and Alf shrugs uncomfortably. "I think we might see our way clear to a very profitable accommodation," he goes on smoothly. "You'll be our ace in the hole," he tells Rus, gloating.
Now Rus rounds on the other man. There are red sauce stains around his mouth (done quite deliberately) "It's a package deal," Rus tells him, indicating Severus. "We both play or neither of us do." His tone brooks no argument. Or rather, it begs for one. Go on, I dare you!, is clearly understood.
Invite him up too. The more the merrier. *evil cackle* But not the oogly jellied kind in a can that for years made me think I didn't like cranberries. *nods and takes notes* The filling does sound pecan pie-ish, so I'll start there. I have several recipes for Bourbon Pecan Pie.