Watches as Caleb burns his vest while cackling maniacally, then sighs.
"Custom tailored, Larkmagnet. Custom. Tailored."
Flicks popcorn kernels off his suit which landed on his shoulders as a result of Beth's popcorn explosion.
"Abigail, the way you worded your previous statement, I thought you were requesting a duel, not a-"
"-brawl. If you'd like to fight me, please specify the type of battle, and not just vaguely "hand-to-hand combat", before pulling out a sword and shield-"
Watches as Abigail Aether-poofs out of existence
"Somebody please get me some lemon tea and scones, I have a headache."