"Wheeen the moon hits your eye…" Mista warbled, so far out of tune he was nearly into another octave.
"Mista, stop it or I'm going to hit you with my purse, I swear to god." Trish covered her face with her hands, praying that nobody was looking. Everyone in the restaurant was looking. She could feel them staring. She was going to murder him.
"Liiiiike a big-a piiiiizza pie…"
"Guido Mista you are going to shatter every wine glass in here and I'm going to make you eat the glass shards, do you understand me?" Trish wasn't sure what was more distressing, how badly her red face must be clashing with her hair, or the hint of an embarrassed smile she felt tugging at the corners of her mouth. Why did her mother have to be right about the dumbest boys being sickeningly adorable?
"Thaaaaaaat's amore…!"
Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled. Well, at least it seemed to be in tune. Giving up, Trish pushed her hands into her hair and started laughing.