Bob: I am not? I did not know you could predict the future.
*Bob smiles, as he sits down on a comfortabl chair with clawed feet, which wasn't there a moment ago. He smiles, as his cane disappears, and a stage appears in front of him*
Bob: Let us see the quality of her voice, shall we? Like tasting a fine wine. Unless, of course, you wish to kill me.
*Bob gives Bug a sideways glance which should have sent his hat tumbling from his head, smiling widely, his eyes slitted like those of a snake*
Bob: Well?