Originally Posted by Vinegar Tom

"Hm? A bird? Where?" Chaucer darted his head around, but every buttress was concealed with faux clouds. He was referring to YOU, you great clod! A look of comical indignation spread across his face, adding a little colour to his cheeks. "Bah! Of course I wouldn't imitate a first-year! This particular piece of pudding just happens to be... inedible. That's all and now we shall move on because talk of bland food is more depressing than talking about dead frog-like fathers." Fully realizing he had almost branded himself as a miserable, though immaculately dressed, ingrate, he took another piece of pudding and popped a healthy chunk into his mouth.
"That is how one cooks a pudding! Much better." Hah, and none would suspect. Truly I am a good Slytherin.



"Oh let's not talk about Anne-Marie. Well fine, I can see you're quite eager, but I won't be enthused!" Chaucer lifted his nose into the air. Obviously, his good humour had returned. "She's a silly thing - alsways wants 'to be alooone' (this last part he said drawn out) and doesn't even play with dolls. She's young enough, only 8 or so. Wait... 7. Oh that can't be, I'd remember a number like 7 more clearly. Well I love her dearly, though she has no imagination. You know she watches the news? Who watches the news I ask you, I dare you refer me to a little girl who prefers the news to 'Lovely Sorceress Corrigan'!" He gave a deep breath when he finished his tirade and plunged with fervor into his meal.