Froggy drops her quill; it bounces twice and rolls off onto the floor. "Gah!" she exclaims. "GAH!" Now she is as close as a quiet frog can get to shouting. "Dust and cobwebs on my books!? NEVER! They are pristine, perfect, flawless, scrupulously clean, sparkling even, and you can't tell that they have even been opened, let alone read many times over! Perfect!"
She blinks a couple of times, and shuffles in her seat. Rather nervously reaches for a fresh quill, something unwelcome having occurred to her a little too late. "Er ... you were joking, maybe?" The quill isn't to her liking, so she carefully whittles it into better shape with a small penknife, managing to cut herself just the once for a change.
Froggy considers the prospect of it being teasing as she works, and by the time the quill is completed she has found something more to say. "Humph," she declares.
People being rather too much effort, she returns to writing. Without paying much attention to anything but her work, froggy tells the two new AMs, "You may, however, clean up the mess this ink leaves everywhere ..."
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