The image of Vlad in tights nearly sent him into laughter again. He bit it back though, nodding.
As she began to panic, Luther made the wise decision to push to the other end of the couch. He grimaced, trying to think of anything but Joanie and the tiger in bed and attempted to bring to mind other images. Fish sticks for instance. His mother. Rodriguez in the nursing home. Madeline when she left. ...anything but what his own mind supplied. It was disturbing.
"Good. Great. Let's - let's not talk about this again. Alright?"