Noah: Blah, blah, Emma, blah.
Dwarak: *mumbles something*
Emma: You boys talking about me?
Noah: I was just telling Dwarak that the who to the whatzit in foo minor is something that you'll be handling.
Emma: Oh, well, allow me to add some facts to your wild speculations.
Noah: Oh, no need. I'm good.
Emma: But I must!
Noah: No, it's really unnecessary. I much prefer conversations in which I can disseminate misinformation unchecked.
Emma: Oh, well, in that case, carry on!
Noah: No, I really should be getting back to work now, if I can remember what I'm working on.
Emma: Well, it's pretty much down between "writing" and "nagging" isn't it?
Noah: Sometimes, if it's a well written email, I can do both at once!
Emma: Well thank goodness for multi-tasking.
Noah: But it's writing. I have a break from those interminable meetings.
Emma: Lovely. I hope it lasts through the break.
Noah: Me too. Cheerio.
(Noah wanders away)
Solies: You only encourage him, you know.
Emma: Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Solies: You egg him on, like an omelet.
Egga: I know. I'm a terrible person.
Solies: Egg. Egg. Egg.
Egga: That hurts coming from the man who just bought a brand new Jokermobile off the profits from the banner ads running on the site that keeps itself in business by publishing fictionalized conversations with me.
Solies: You need an egg hat, Egga.
Emma: Keep talking, bright boy, I still have my mountain lions...
Solies: ...which you got from your share of the banner ads running on the site that keeps itself in business by making you famous, Miss Bite the Hand that Feeds Your Mountain Lions.
Emma: And that's exactly what happened.
Jumpie: I'm unclear on the progression that results in mountain lions with surgerically implanted tasers sleeping in my bed.
Emma: Oh! You never listen to me!