[He slaps his hand over his mouth anyway, trying to hold in the laughter. It doesn't really work, and he snorts his way through what is pretty much a giggle fit.] "Sorry, Harry. It's not-- it's just. Fairy godmother. Little singing mice. Handsome prince." [Your face. A tiara. Glass slippers.]

"Wait. Back up. Now I'm suppose to threaten the mob boss I'm going to for help? Theoretically going to for help." [His face twisted sideways. This was getting... kind of nuts.] "No wonder your life is crazy.

...Oh God. Not cool, man. That's my sister!"