It was settled. This was the year he would make a splash at dinner. The only problem was how to eat. Perhaps he could take his French knife and slit a line between the teeth, carefully maintaining the crowns. Turkey would be chopped fine. Mashed potatoes no problem, Brussels to be avoided. The main hazard was splitting the mouth even further while drinking from the wine cellar, for these in-laws frown in the presence of Glasgow smiles.
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