“Do you really not bleed red?”

“Yeah… and the naked earl from last night’s gala had a bamboo’d bullock. Now who makes sense here?”

“What?”

“What?”

And they both fell silent.

At a distance:

_Sigh_ “Theodore, go get your uncle.”

“Okay, mama. But wait—does the earl really have a bamboo butt?”

Lucinda patted her son’s head. “No, my dear. And even if he did, I wouldn’t ruin my eyesight by gazing upon an overstuffed pig.”