It certainly is not their fault they're wrong. They just were born with terrible palettes and a lack of taste.

[ Verso breathes a laugh through his nose that becomes a chuckle. His shoulders even bounce a little as it almost descends into a laugh. ]

All right, pastry store shopping, it is.

[ Leaning more in her direction, he asks: ] If I happen to get you that card you need, how many pastries will I have to buy you before you forgive me? [ As he tosses her a very hypothetical question, his head bounces left to right on every other word. ]