[He's not going to argue the point, if only because continuing to do so would make him look like a pansy--and that's not an acceptable outcome. So instead, Dante scowls to himself--at least until Noah takes a sip of that lemonade.
Okay, that reaction makes up for it a little bit. (Noah should probably watch his back for the next couple weeks though.)]
What, not enough salt for your liking? I thought you could provide your own instead.
No, it's not. It's lemons, sugar, and water. [Beat.] Well, actually, this is from concentrate so it's a tube of frozen lemon juice and sugar mixed with water. Same deal.
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Okay, that reaction makes up for it a little bit. (Noah should probably watch his back for the next couple weeks though.)]
What, not enough salt for your liking? I thought you could provide your own instead.
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He clears his throat, getting the rest down.]
No, it's ... flat?
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No, it's not. It's lemons, sugar, and water. [Beat.] Well, actually, this is from concentrate so it's a tube of frozen lemon juice and sugar mixed with water. Same deal.
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Ok. If you say so.
I should go. [He'll raise his cup in a toast] Thank you.
[And he's heading off!]
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Mark the calendars, folks, it's a red-letter day indeed.]
Yeah, see you later.
[What the hell was that?
...it still doesn't let him off the hook for that smack, though. Ow, but that still hurts!]