Unfortunately, Daphne lost her cool and a yelp escaped her as she stopped being upside down and found herself in Plymouth's arms. "Errrm," she stammered wiggling her fingers nervously. There he went, again, mentioning hobos. Rolling her eyes, Daphne threw her head back to avoid having to look at him.

Hobos? He was comparing her to a Hobo's sack of potatoes? How lovely! "I am so...pleased. I'm glad. I'd...be your sack of potatoes any day."

Or something. Cue eye roll.