Anzu holds up the piece of paper, stares at it, then rotates it a couple of different ways. Then he looks at Cecil; his mouth's twitching, like he's suppressing an urge to laugh. His eyes are certainly merry—amused.
"Ziskayt, this is a positively fiendish arrangement for a plant's habits!" he exclaims. "It's almost the vegetable lamb, except I assume the nuts at the end don't go baa, nu?"
He taps the side of his jaw again.
"Hast thou heard of the matter of the palm tree?" he asks, trusting that Cecil will assume by default that he's going somewhere with this sudden tangent.
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Anzu holds up the piece of paper, stares at it, then rotates it a couple of different ways. Then he looks at Cecil; his mouth's twitching, like he's suppressing an urge to laugh. His eyes are certainly merry—amused.
"Ziskayt, this is a positively fiendish arrangement for a plant's habits!" he exclaims. "It's almost the vegetable lamb, except I assume the nuts at the end don't go baa, nu?"
He taps the side of his jaw again.
"Hast thou heard of the matter of the palm tree?" he asks, trusting that Cecil will assume by default that he's going somewhere with this sudden tangent.