Lion Head Mesa sedjet

the dog nodded. after the left-field strike that the pharaoh began the meeting with, gucci now felt as if he could take in and understand the information presented much better.

"so if them saints do attack, they'd see their own da' defendin' th' door? real clever, your majesty." despite it likely being incredibly simple politics and matchmaking, gucci thought it a genuinely clever move to be made in practice.

then, another order. this again shook the little man a bit, but he'd decided to keep himself cool as a fridged beer.

"comprehendin'." he sharply nodded. "now, as mah presence ain't no aphrodisiac, ah think it'd be useful t', uhm, melt 'em both a lil'? find some way outside th' - important - mournin' t' get 'em gettin' friendly?" his brows scrunched as he wracked his brain for ways to keep the girl from leaving.

the debatable morality of doing so didn't yet get to him. the extrovert high was guiding his words.