*closes his eyes (because if he doesn't see you over there earning yourself a much more detailed write-up (full of vivid description and high suspense!), it's not happening)*
Even you can't argue with...
*AHAHAHAHA you poor, poor thing*
*doesn't know whether you're trying to test him or you're just that bad at your job, but is plenty happy to tell you how full of lose you are either way*
*simpering* Ah. No. As you recall—as I'm sure you must recall from this month's revised parks schedule, being the parks maven and all, My Lord—the G-Force Repertory had their entire week of Folkmusicale rained out last month and I rescheduled them starting Thursday. *taps his fingers impatiently on the tabletop* Had to work around one of your retarded golf outings to do it, too.
*cracks one eye open and tries not to look at that gun* If you and Anairë wanted to double up on Glorfindel—and isn't that the stuff of nightmares—you should have asked for a SALAD1 months ago. Your thighs would thank you, too.
((1Supplemental Arts License (incl. Alcohol Distribution) ))