Paolo: *immediately swings his head downwards to stare intently at the floor, gritting his teeth while his face becomes the color of ketchup* (Before you say /anything/, Two...) *freezes him and all the other numbers, except for Four, in his head* Four: Oh. Thank you. Paolo: (You're usually polite and correct, don't prove me wrong.) Conten: *yelps* What the- Vlosko! *stumbles back*