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"Foohruman, use damage woohden surface ohn that broccoli's mahogany table, and we'll sneak out of here!" you say in your best attempt to speak american.
"Indeed, one does dislike the veggie that is broccoli." Fooruman begins. "Howevah, one see noh reasohn to haaarm Maaary. Hah table ohn the uhthah hand..." he finishes while throwing a nasty scowl at Mary's table. With a few well-chosen magic words, the stain finish on the table begins to fade away, exposing the wood to the open air. The sudden change in atmosphere causes the wood to rot and decay. Mary catches the silent, but sudden cracking with her amazing old-lady hearing and says, "Empty...if you, one's old bean, could paaardohn myself for one moment, one must tend to this old table. i've had it in the hice for several yeaaars...noh whare is that vaaarnish?" She gets up and hobbles over to the closet. Now what do you want to do?
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This space for rent.
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