“Winifred, are you suggesting that you’re not going to smoke one of these fine Bavarian cigars?” Thomas’s mustache twitched back and forth like a small, live mouse on his upper lip as he scrunched up his face in disapproval.

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting, Thomas,” Winifred replied as she placed her tube of fine, french lipstick back in her clasp and popped her lips in a distinctly obnoxious manner. Thomas pulled his cigar from his mouth and blew out a thick puff of smoke.

“That is, without a doubt, the most absurd-“ he abruptly began coughing, smoke coming out of his nose in undignified wisps as he attempted to take another draw. He cleared his throat and continued. “As I was saying, this is the most absurd thing you’ve refused since you decided that chicken was unclean.”

“They are unclean!” Winifred stated with that wide-eyed fury that she frequented when challenged on any point about anything. “Since Darwin wrote that book on the evolution of species-“ she ignored Thomas’s scoff of dismissal, “- multiple biologists have determined that chickens - and in fact, all birds, mind you,- are direct descendants of those horrid reptilian beasts coming to be known as “dinosaurs.” And I, Thomas, do not eat reptiles!”

“Winifred, my dear, we have already had this discussion and, while I do not believe there is a single ounce of merit in Mr. Darwin’s theory, I did agree to let you continue to go to these absurd “scientific discussions at the university.” She responded with a huff of irritation which Thomas, with determinedly ignorant alacrity, absolutely ignored. “However, everyone knows that tobacco is good for the lungs! It fills you with a sense of purpose and strengthens your breathing! It cleans out your throat and keeps you from getting sick! Everyone knows this, Winifred.”

“I don’t know it,” she snapped back. “In fact, there have been multiple studies as of late, by several well-respected docto-“

“From the university, I assume,” Thomas interjected.

Winifred pursed her lips to keep from shouting. After a short moment she continued in a grating tone, “as I was saying, several well-respected doctors have performed studies which have come to the conclusion that smoking is absolutely detrimental to the proper function of your lungs.” Winifred was promptly interrupted by the raucous laughter of, not only Thomas, but the two men in the next booth as well, who had been studiously pretending they weren’t listening in up until now.

Hurt registered on Winifred’s face and tears sprung forth, unbidden. Winifred stood up quickly, holding her clasp against her stomach in resolute anger, and said, in a breaking voice, “You’ll die with that cigar in your hand, Thomas, and I only hope I am not around to see it.” With that severe declaration, she spun on her heel and marched off.

Thomas stood and called out after her, “Winifred, now don’t be like that! Winifred! Winifred, stop this instant!” Winifred, however, did not heed his words, continuing past the maître d, marched out the door of the eating establishment, and disappeared down the street. One of the men from the next booth leaned over and gave Thomas’s elbow a light pat.

“Oy well, ole chap. Wimmun, they’s a mystery, they is.” Thomas slowly turned his head and looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow.

“Really, Brian? That’s the accent you’re going with?”

Brian threw his hand up in irritation. “Whut? Now I ain’t speakin’ right? Whut’s next Tommy, ya gonna tell me that I shouldn’t wear my sneakers because “those weren’t invented yet?”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you, Brian? It’s your great grandparents whose relationship we’re trying to sabotage so you can grow up rich instead of the slums of southern Alabama. Is that a little too much for you? Should we jump back in the time-capsule and just go back home?”

“No, no, I just- look, okay, I wuz bein a jerk. Now let’s go get gramma Winny. If you ain’t frenchin’ her before the day’s out, I’m gonna think about just takin care of the problem myself, since you can’t seem ta handle it.”

There was a moment of awkwardness between the two men as Thomas stared worriedly at Brian. Finally his words seemed to click and Brian’s face screwed up in disgust.

“No, no, that ain’t whut I meant-“

Thomas tuned Brian out. It was time for plan D. Kidnapping Brian’s great-grandmother.