"how many debates before they've probably used up what they've got, do you think?" junior consultant Janie asked TechTrek Stacy worriedly.
"Two," Stace assured her, condescending busily for dripping-behind-the-ears naivite' from the retired playgirl bunny.
Jane checked the screen display intently. "We need to add ... five now, to be sure."
"Any suggestions?" Stacy knew the likely spots.
"Wouldn't Tunis or Monaco make more sense?"
"Okay. Toronto it is. you're right. Closer is best."
"And she does have that fear of flying...."
"Yup. On it." Janie wriggled her phone out of the left back pocket of her jeans. "Chez Suzette du Croix? The rush'll begin around 10:41 March 22nd. Gear now!"
"Let's squeeze in some back to back nights." Stacy slurped hot java up through a straw. "Really make 'em squirm."
"Got it. Hilton Head, if it's above ground. South Carolina's strong enough for another round."
"Yeah, but will they fall for the mint juliennes flambe' on the trays?"
"They will, or we're not as right-wing as sin."
"Alert the kin far and wide. We've got the gumdrops in the bag." Stace jammed his laptop shut and stood to stretch his five feet and a half pallor over Janie's frame crouching to open the drawer of plastic samples.
"What's that pink gop?"
"Mouse a la Cart."
"Ain't that some class?" Stacey chawed down on Red's Premium Cracklin and gulped. "We have got it down."
Jane popped a chilled mouse-a-la-cart down the scoop of his black muscle shirt. "We do," she smirked.
"Hit it, doll."