*smirks, thoroughly unruffled (just joshing)* Hey now. Threatening a guy's memorial preferences is un-fuckin'-kosher, yeah? Make sure it's somewhere totally offensive and funny, too, 'kay?
*pulls a face* Feck, is it still witch-tits outside? *drums her hand on the table, glancing up at the clock* Gimme an hour or so to wrap up some stuff here, and I'm down with the pool plan. *snaps her fingers* Oh! Eighth and Market. 's got the 911 jalapeño poppers, right?