“Fred?” The confusion in his voice makes me laugh. “Out of all the gang, you’d definitely be the one to wear an ascot, so yeah, Fred.” Scottie scoffs. “I’m tempted to say you’d be Shaggy but you’re more the Daphne of the group.” “Fred had the hots for Daphne,” I point out. “This conversation has taken a strange turn and is making my head hurt.”
