[There is a soft tinkling of music coming over the feed. It has an oddly echoing quality, and listeners may wonder if they can hear it when the feed is turned off.
A soft, rippling laugh.We are preparing a dance, my friends. Such a glorious dance
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I cannot express my gratitude, my lord. Leave the sheets of paper with the Puck. He will be most pleased to receive them.
[The moment he reads the note, the furniture will crash all around him, giving off a loud, discordant screech.
Erik will then see the Puck, perched on top of the rubble as if it is the most comfortable seat in the world. He'll look like a young man - almost a boy - while at exactly the same time appearing to be an old, mischievous looking man with a wicked glint in his eye.]
Word to the wise, between you and me, Mr Ghost...
Don't insult the Queen. You'd not like this place if you weren't in her good graces.
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[Puck doesn't even seem to be looking at him; he's studying the note.]
See, what I meant was that you got in a wee cream puff, and took forever to reply back. See, she's bratty, sometimes. I can say that, by the by. You can't.
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Of course, I'll attend. It'd be rude to not reject an invitation to a party from one such as you, especially since you are so sincere.
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You are too kind!
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It will be an honour, Your Majesty. A ball will be a perfect reprieve from the stresses that have recently troubled us both.
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