Abigail the stays on Princess Pirouette’s corset as tightly as she dare. “Tighter!” She demanded of her official dresser. “Your Highness,” cried Abigail. “I simply can’t pull it any tighter. You look as skinny as a blade of grass!”
“Oh, poppycock!” Said Pirouette with exasperation. “I haven’t gained any weight, have I?”
“No, ma’am, but you are stretching the limits of human endurance with this corset.”
“Fine. Lace me up. We’re done.”
Giving the laces one final pull, Abigail tied them into a bow. “I’m sure Monsieur le comte will be more than pleased with your appearance. He IS madly in love with you, you know.”
“You can do me one more favor, Abigail. When GarGar arrives, do not under any circumstances leave us alone. When he has me all to himself, he turns into an octopus.“
“Oc-to-pus?” Repeated Abigail, unsure of the pronunciation.
“It’s a sea creature with eight arms.” Explained Pirouette.
“My goodness! It sounds hideous. Surely Monsieur le comte doesn’t merit comparison with something so ugly,” posited Abigail.
“Just remember to stay in the room, no matter what he says. You take your orders from me, and me alone!”