*snickers softly and leans in to glance over the label atop the box as you shift it around*
*exclaims* Whoa—wait, hang on, don't move it. *shoos you out of the way and gracefully crouches down to peer at the label* *lightly thumps a palm against her forehead and sighs* You know? I think these are the wrong forms. I asked for five-eighty-two form A, and this label says they're form B.
*straightens up and scurries over to the catch-all drawer, rifling through the loose pliers and screwdrivers and pens and plasticware* Lord Ecthelion, if you want to set that down a sec, be my guest? I want to check and see if the label matches the contents before I send it back and kick my feet.