(sipping, suddenly calm once more. tusklike canines retracted back into her mouth as she smiles.)
excellent.
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(yanking him down to eye level by his hair. she's muttering curses in a language bowser can't understand, and practically sounds like a rabid animal about to tear him to shreds.)
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(spitting the drink. hitting him with the goblet.)
are you an IDIOT?? i don't want your puny alcohols, i want VIM!! crush a toad over a glass if you have to, BUT GET ME VIM!!!
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IF YOU'RE ASKING FOR A BEATING, THEN I'LL BE HAPPY TO DELIVER!! GO GET ME A DRINK.
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now, don't go ahead of yourself. you've got a situationship at most. at least you have a chance.
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