"I thought I was meant to be getting a vacation this afternoon," Corrival grumbled, lifting his hot-dog. "Not deciding whether or not to break ancient laws that have been around since God knows when. Though I suppose at least you asked."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Solomon demurred, still holding his hot-dog and looking a bit as if he wasn't sure he could risk trying to eat it without at least being able to see where it went.

"So Paddy Steadfast was just a coincidence?"

"Technically, Paddy was Valkyrie and Fletcher's fault," Solomon pointed out, "and indirectly due to Gabe's influence. I had nothing to do with it."

"Besides usin' magic in front of him, y'mean?" Gabe asked with a grin.

Solomon shrugged. "Semantics. He already suspected, and it's hardly a crime of which I can be accused now, is it? How am I meant to eat this, exactly?" There was exasperation in his tone, his head tilting with bafflement as he lifted the hot-dog. "I feel like trying to do so while blind will be somewhat akin to biting into a grenade."

"Trade you," Gabe said, taking the hot-dog in favour of the hot-chips. "And you're wrong, by the by. Or haven't you figured out yet you've still got more tricks up your sleeve than the obvious?"

"As long as they don't involve petting eels," Corrival muttered, and bit into his hot-dog, waving a dismissive hand at Ghastly in a 'whatever' fashion.