In his newly torn and stained suit he'd borrowed, Grok is shown what the number seven looks like as he's sat down at his respective table. He sits up straight in his chair, almost dignified on this cheap plastic throne. "Grok is not the number seven, Grok is Grok! Great conqueror, strongest of the Sharg, Pusher of Carts, Bagger of Groceries!"
He declares proudly and very loudly. The little sheet that had questions on it as Greg had told him about was swept to the side. "Grok only has one question! How many cattle are you prepared to surrender for the chance to be Grok's mate? Grok will also accept chickens for the laying of eggs!"
He adds generously, truly a man of mercy. His hands rest on the table, outstretched as he looks her over, unaffected by so called womanly charms!
"Who are you calling a puppet?" The high pitched voice comes. The sound is clearly from Jane, but her lips are hardly moving, and her hardened eyes continue trying to stare a hole through Jonathan.
After the small outburst, Jane herself speaks in her blunt manner. "My sister Janet. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call her a puppet, she's transitioning toa real girl right now." She... demands?
The puppet nods vigorously, 'standing' up to look much more fierce with those cold, glass eyes. "How could you assume my species the first time we meet? I know I'm a little woodier than other girls, but I won't be held back! Also, that was your question."
The puppet looks down at the paper for a few seconds, as if reading the questions. She then slowly turns her head and looks at her controller. "Ahem, I can't read without you."
"My apologies." Jane says, finally breaking the death stare to look down at the paper, which the puppet reads from.
"What is your ideal first date?" Janet says aloud, before looking back up.