1), [he holds up the finger of his other hand, bumping into Keats' shoulder while he leads them out of the room,] my cooking is exquisite, [he exaggerates. His cooking is... fine. It's hard without taste-buds.] 2) what other reason would I own a restaurant for, and 3). [Look at this bright, perfect smile.] "Victorian nerd who fell into a second-hand store selling nothing but mauve-colored mistakes" was too wordy.