It's Frankenstein's special day, which he's celebrating by being very cold in Chanel's front pocket and intermittently fluttering to her shoulder for treats. She should probably have brought him home hours ago, she thinks idly. But he's comfortable. And she can't risk any time away from the festival while there's a DATE-date still going on. She has a sibling and a friend to spy on.

And another to skate with. Luckily. For their sake. She stands with Eddy now near the good Ex-Mayor's skating booth, and produces a dragot, for both their skate rentals. "This," she lays it down with some gravity, "Means you can't let us die out there, deal?" Actually, she's smiling. This is mostly a joke. She wouldn't risk her and her bird's lives on half a dragot, she knows her worth a little more than that.