“Is that Stilton?” Serana asks, already reaching for it. “Stop!” Tana leaps from her bed. “Stilton is almost as good as goat entrails.” “You’re wasted here,” I say. “You should be in marketing. ‘Stilton: almost as good as goat entrails.’” Tana grabs the plate, staring at it. “I don’t eat it, but I can see the future in cheese. Especially if it’s ripe like this.” “I’m just going to have a little nibble.” Serana grabs a piece and pops it in her mouth. “Serana!” Tana yanks the cheese plate away. “You just ate the fate of the Italian military.”
