Foppish Pierre: I was right. This will never do. I mean...look at yourself. How, by any stretch of the imagination, am I supposed to...converse...with one such as yourself?
Player: Well, you could flap your mouth about while making words into a sentence.
Foppish Pierre: Oh...you are so lower class. I've become used to dealing with better people than you since I became fabulously wealthy. Thank goodness I have my pomander of expensive spices, your odour was beginning to make me feel light-headed.
Foppish Pierre: I'm sorry, I can't hear it when poor people are upset. Toodle-pip.