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CAMILLA: Charles, dear, who is that gentleman standing next to us in the bathrobe?
CHARLES: You know, dahling, I have absolutely no idear.
CAMILLA: Should we invite him to stand closer for the picture?
CHARLES: No, pet. We’re royals. Also, it’s my understanding that the Japanese have a thing about personal space. Hence all the bowing and whatnot.
CAMILLA: Thank goodness we’re not in another huggy country. Can someone explain to me the obsession with hugging? I find it quite undignified.
CAMILLA: I do like this odd man’s “man-purse,” however. Do you suppose it’s Comme des Garcons?
CHARLES: “Man-purse”? My dahling, I have not the faintest idear–
CAMILLA: (exasperated) That messenger bag he’s wearing. The one with the polka dots.
CHARLES: Ah, yes, right. It’s just, when you said the words “man-purse,” I thought you were talking about, erhm, you know.
CAMILLA: I’m terribly sorry, love, but I have simply not a clue as to what you’re implying.
CHARLES: Well. It’s one of my many pet names for your, erhm, you know…your woohoo.
CAMILLA: Oooooooh! My man-purse. Charles! Really.
CHARLES: You know, where you keep your, erhm, Tampax. And, dare I say, some of my things.
CAMILLA: Dear, I believe you mean “thing.” Your thing. Your thick, juicy–
JAPANESE GUY IN “BATHROBE”: Please for the love of Buddha, somebody take the picture. I just threw up in my mouth and I might kill myself if I listen to any more of this.