Okay, so I flip the muffin tin over—it’s just an ordinary muffin tin, see?—and I flip it over like this. You watching?” The shadowed figure in the corner of the kitchen nodded, a minute incline of the head.
Marie hesitated, then continued. “So I take this” she took an awl from a drawer, “—and punch a hole in the bottom of the muffin mold. Like this. You want to be careful. If the point slips, you could cut… nevermind.”
She repeated the process on each of the eleven remaining muffin molds. “And now, voila!” Marie flipped the tin back over and showed off a muffin tin with holes punched up through the bottom of each mold. She presented her best smile, and held it until she couldn’t hold it any longer. “I’m sorry.” She looked at her feet. “I thought I could keep this going. I probably should have gone for the chess thing.”
YOU’RE NO GOOD AT CHESS.
“No, but it might’ve taken longer.” She sighed.
TIME IS RATHER IMMATERIAL AT THIS POINT. Marie nodded. COME. She walked toward the cloaked, skeletal figure.
BRING THE MUFFIN TIN. IT REALLY WAS A NOVEL TRICK.
Marie smiled with real joy.