"Jutht one?" He can't help it. Sure, Signless and Disciple have... their thing, but that's them. It's bizarre to think of an entire culture that doesn't even have something as basic as morails. Maybe that explains Mayfield. "God, okay, hold on- here, take thith-" He shoves the cat onto her lap again before scurrying off into the kitchen.

When he returns, he has a pad of paper and a pencil. Settling onto the couch again, he draws a box, then splits it up into four other boxes. Heart, diamond, spade, club. "Alright, tho, you have your four romanceth. There'th redrom and blackrom. I gueth thith whole wifethprit thing ith more like our redrom? Blackrom generally involveth more punching or thtabbing or rumor mongering... That thort of thing. With me tho far?"