SMSascha Minkoff
You remind me of my seventh husband, the Baron... rest his soul.
Oh? What happened to him?
SMSascha Minkoff
He died the way men dream of dying... making love to me.
[Dan pretends disinterest, but after a moment, he looks around, then leans over and drops his voice]
What were you doing?
[She cups a hand to his ear and whispers]
[shocked] My god, that would generate forty-eight pounds of pressure per square inch!
SMSascha Minkoff
Fifty if I stretch first. So, darling... care to try your luck?
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