We have no more tables available at The Gilded Griffin until late January, and that's only if I like you.

[Frank]
What do you want for Christmas?

[Daphne]
A belated congratulations on your new position, Lady Daphne. I do hope Lady Yaxley appreciates your talents as much as the rest of us.

[Fletcher]
You'll never guess who I bumped into at the local Macmillans' store this morning.

[Pettigrew]
I'm starting to believe our King may be cursed. Curious, don't you think?

[Augusta's employees]
A noble lord stepped on my foot at the gala in Knightsbridge last night and his apology was as poorly executed as his outfit. I want his name and sexual fetishes (real or not) scrawled on every bathroom wall between St Paul's and Hampstead Heath. Little shit.
[ooc - if anyone wants a funny side plot, feel free!]