There is not one thing I’d rather do than walk over right now and smack Yuri in that smug face of his.
Well no, actually, that’s not true. Really, I would much rather slip my hand into Rachael the barmaid’s blouse.
And when it comes to it, I would also rather have a meal of marinated mushrooms and mashed potatoes, such as I ate last Tuesday at the Roman’s.
And yes, I would also rather vacation in Hawaii and own a really fine suit of clothes, and play baccarat with an Arabian sheikh at a Monte Carlo casino, and wake one morning to find that my hair had grown back, and my eyes become clear, and my body trim and youthful. And I would like to jump from a tall cliff into the perfect blue waters of the South Pacific, then rise like an angel on feathered wings and soar over the rooftops of Paris.
Yes, I would rather do all those things, but oh! that Yuri makes me so mad sometimes.