Oh no, he was going to have to be ~smooth~. That boded the worst sort of ill, because while Troy could do charm, it was the slightly mad charm of an outgoing, confident soul. "Ahhhhh." He began. "No, that's not stupid. It's not stupid at all."
Right. He could pull this off. If he could traipse around strange places and write about what he'd seen, he could give Jean her first romantic, err, night.
"I've got this. Don't worry, I'll be right back." Troy waived a finger as if to say 'stay right there' and made a mad dash for the living room, where he'd left his satchel.
About a minute and a half later, after a little rustling, the sound of a kazoo playing Bella Notte. That's right. Troy Smith: bringing the Lady and the Tramp to the dinner table.
On kazoo.
When he reappeared, he looked awfully proud of himself.