Rasmus quirked a brow which got lost in that mop of uncombed hair atop his head and stared at Red as though he'd just asked him to take off his pants. Not with shock and dismay, as might be the usual response, but with a sort of this is hardly the time or place for such shenanigans look that gave him the impression of a librarian hushing chatty children. Or like a projectionist catching teenagers making out in the love seat row during an R-rated horror flick.
Get Physical, indeed.
Worst. Pun. Ever.
"Your wooing skills leave something to be desired. But keep practicing. It might work on someone one day."
Rasmus not so subtly dropped the Almond Joy wrapper to the floor and then kicked it under the shelving unit. A little girl with pigtails walked by and stared at him with wide eyes as though he'd just committed a crime (well he did but her expression was akin to having just witnessed a murder.) Rasmus hissed at her and she yelped, running back down another aisle.
"Why are you looking at all of these lame costumes anyway? Are you going to a party? Because no one of consequence will sleep with you if you wear these dumb get-ups. Not unless you spike the punch. And then maybe only if you go as a sexy Dracula."