"You know," palm over his compassionate heart, he began an explanation complete with an inspired knit of his wry, acquitted brow. "I was honestly just really concerned about how gross everyone looked, and I thought it'd be a nice way to really pull the community together, you know? What better way than an unspoken mail-getting dress-up rule?" he leaned back, fingers sprawled out and spirited before him as if an invisible banner was being smoothed out. "Discover the world of getting the mail, The future of getting the mail, Dress nice you hag! Go get the mail, really the possibilities are endless."
Vince brought his hands together and clapped them clean of his slogans and tapestries. "I have to go where I was supposed to fifteen minutes ago before you're pretty little face dragged me back in here." Said he, very obviously peeking to the number on her mailbox. "We'll do lunch."