Stop being such a Drama King

Nell: Don’t make a fuss of David, please.

Me: Why? Where is he?

Nell: On the sofa wrapped in a big towel. He won’t even play Cheeky Animals with Harriet.

Me: Poor darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. Is he feeling the cold?

Nell: So he claims, but just ignore him. He needs to stop being such a Drama King.

Me: What happened?

Nell: Manuel put too much ice in his Shirley Temple.

Me: In his what?

Nell: I suppose I should have said cocktail, or even mocktail, although I’m not a fan of the word.

Me: What is Dave doing drinking mocktails at this time of the morning?

Nell: The Cat has chosen Manuel as bartender for the Platinum Jubilee celebrations.

Me: That makes sense. He’s ever so good with his tentacles and I can imagine him juggling cocktail shakers.

Nell: Exactly. Anyway, obviously he needs to practice so David and Harriet volunteered as his first testers.

Me: I see.

Nell: They were both thoroughly enjoying them, especially the Mango Mule, when David suddenly yelped.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: He said the Shirley Temple had given him a body freeze.

Me: It shouldn’t have done that.

Nell: I don’t think it did.

Me: I thought you could only get a brain freeze?

Nell: Exactly. David is exaggerating wildly.

Me: Maybe it was just one mocktail too many?

Nell: Yes, that’s what I think. The nachos won’t have helped. I told Poppy to tone down the spice in the salsa.

Me: I prefer mine with guacamole.

Nell: This isn’t about you. David needs to get off the sofa and continue the tasting.

Me: Perhaps Manuel could leave out the ice?

Nell: I beg your pardon? A cocktail without ice is like a scone without jam and cream. Unthinkable.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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