Snippet #1683290

The woman Claire asked for training with her rifle!? A lady carrying a gun!? Unheard of! Ladies were supposed to act nicely, dress up and be socialites? Right?
Oh well, she seemed to like guns, and for some reason that made Marshall grab for his own gun. Of course he didn't get anything, he'd left it in his car outside.
"If she's going to get her rifle, could you then get someone to fetch my baby in here?" Marshall inquired, only just then realising that he'd called his car; his baby.
What a weird notion to call a dead object like his car, such a thing. But of course, it could go back to the fact that he spent so much time making sure that it was in the very best condition. You never know when people look at your car, and if they judge you on it, then it better be in a nice condition.

"But uhmmm... I mean. My car." Marshall then tried to erase the silly fact. His voice somwhat a mixture of failure and defeat.
How could he run around making himself seem like some idiot who is fanatically idolizing his own car!?
Er... of course he wasn't that fanatic about it? Of course, we can all hope so.