"The Honorable Baroness Finley of Brommelgate!"
"What are we to do?" hisses Millicent as the company enters a quick huddle.
"I'm scarcely half through my arrangements," says Aitoko, looking rattled for the first time in your quotidian acquaintance. His mustachios are somehow dripping with sweat. A rare talent, you think, transfixed.
"We'll start playing while you lot set the rest of your gear," says Joan. With that, she and Gilbert take up positions stage left in the horseshoe and begin to play a sprightly processional, she breathing gingerly over her injured tongue.
"And I will pontificate and prevaricate as long as is needed—'tis my specialty," says Timshel, with a wink that seems to reassure no one.
"The Distinguished Viscount of Jungilmore!"
You decide what to do in the scarce moments you have.