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Blob Regulators wrote:

--Strangereal--
--غريبحقيقة--

Be Our Guest 20, Troyskovan Dinner

"This Place Looks Nice." Amira Said. "Do You Think My Cat Can Get A Seat?"

Meanwhile Back In Blobs..

"Sir, She Switched Her Destination." The Man From The Mail Distributor Break In Said. "I Don't Know Where She Is Going. What Should We Do?"
"Semly Sivbokhnish, Heir To The Sivbokhnish Royalty. The Only Living Survivor Of The Family." The Man In The Chair Said.
"Y-Yes, I Know That Sir. What Should We Do?" Semly Replied.
"You Are Very Valuable. Keep That In Mind, But Don't Let It Get To Your Head." The Man In The Chair Said Once More.
"You Arn't Making Much Sence Sir.." Semly Replied. "I Want To Know What To Do."
"Don't Die." The Man Said. "And Ask Your Boss, Not Me."
"Ok, Sir." Semly Said Shakily. "I'll Ask Him, Sir.."
He Walked Out Of The Room.

"Of course.. your cat may.. erm.. have a seat." President D. Khoroshev began.

servants entered the room, all in a perfect line, with platters of food. On the plates, delicious food sat. Steak, salads, and Troyskovan dishes that Amira had never seen before.It all smelled amazing and she was ready to dig in as soon as possible. However, she remembered her table manners and had to be polite.

"May I interest you in some fine wine?" President D. Khoroshev said, while walking towards her with a bottle of aged Troyskovan wine.

Before even listening to her response, he poured half a cup of wine in her glass.

"This is 120 year old wine made in the finest Troyskovan vineyard, I dearly hope you.. enjoy it."

Suddenly, a man in black had come into the room and whispered into the President's ear. Amira could barely make out what the man said, but she heard words such as "Paradise de Capitalism" and "Friently"; all nations she had heard about. Khoroshev came back with a smile.

"Shall we begin?" He said, with a smile. Amira saw a look of worry in his eyes.