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“Oh, I shouldn’t worry about catching the plague, pulcino. I imagine the plague is more concerned that it shall catch YOU!”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?!”
“It means you STINK, little brother. And how are the bad humours supposed to take hold when you are already in such bad humour, eh?”
“At least I do not bathe in rose petals, like some effeminate, pretty-boy, smooth-faced-“
“...whose arse was mistaken for Claudia’s at the last masquerade, again?”
“ARGH!”
“What was it Francesco said...? Something about kneading the rosy complexion of your supple cheeks?”
“That was NOT what he- I hate you!”
“I know, baby brother, I know.” “Now get that look off your face lest the wind change, you look like a crone who swallowed a lemon then stepped in horseshit.”
“Where did she get the lemon?”
“Does that really matter?! It’s a METAPHOR.”
“It’s a stupid one.”
“YOU’RE stupid.”
“No, you are!”
“You!”
“YOU!”
“ENOUGH!” “I will NOT have my reputation sullied by you pair of idiotic, bullheaded MISCREANTS!”
“Oh yes, because hitching up one’s skirts and kicking one’s beloved and long-suffering elder brothers into a water trough and concussing them is SO ladylike, Claudia.” “Your stockings are showing.”
“EEK!” “Monstro!”
“HA! I only lost two squares!”
“Eh?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I imagine a little box of squares above my head that empty everytime I get punched in the gut.”
“I think you’ve been punched in the HEAD too many times, brother.”
“And when I drink medicine, it glows and then people all get these pretty colourful outlines around them!”
“...what?!”
“Mmhm! Arseholes are red, arseholes that aren’t paying attention are yellow, and boring people are white!”
“Federico.” “Have you been smoking opium again?”
“Perhaps.”
“Well don’t!” “Remember Carlos? What if-”
“Your elder brother is not a fool, Ezio.” “I will never leave you. Never.”
“Fag.”
“Gay as the first flowers in Spring, amigo!”
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