*without a trace of irony* We'd all be hunky-dory, being short a coupla cards. Itarillë ain't the sharpest bulb in the box. *benevolently* But she's a nice kid.
*reaches up and brushes your hair back* *rests his hand at the nape of your neck* *in a tone he imagines is quite, quite seductive* Give us a li'l sugar, babe.