"Wha' you talkin' 'bou', Petite? I look fan'as'ic." He touched his right hand to his chest, as if to prove something by doing it. "Righ' as rain, ain' never been better. Je suis la merveille. Magnifique." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling then, bringing them away from her face so he could focus on the concrete that hovered over head.
"Je crois que je vais laisser tomber." Came the final part of that statement, before he turned his head and flashed that charming smile at her, quite sure that she had no idea what he'd just said, so it was easy to pretend that he'd said he was doing just fine. "Maybe we better wake up 'de ot'ers, non? 'Fore all 'de exci'men' star' wit'ou' 'dem."
[*Translation: I'm wonderful. Magnificent. - I think I'm going to throw up.]