Susan frowned ponderously. "Susan no? SUSAN YESSS," she cried lifting her arms up much like a gymnast who upon messing up her landing, bludgeoned two of the judges and received full points. Tilting her head she sang a dirty little ditty in which she rhymed plum with another word and made allusions to it being ejected from a penis.
"Is it Sherlock Bones? I feel that's not quite right. Mum has a complete selection of... Arthur Ronan Boyle somewhere. That's also not right. His name does begin with Arthur." She looked at the nearly empty bottle and grimaced. "Dennis is going to growl at us, or you. Or maybe just me? One of us is going to get growled at. Tall growling," she said, before smirking at Rose. "Rolf is tall. You should climb that like a tree. But not a knicker twist tree."