Could we wear spandex and blow things up?

Maybe I didn't try as hard as I ought when he started calling you
names. Serves him right, the nasty old turd. Punch him again, Moth" - Peaseblossom

About the time he threatened her nose with his finger, Peaseblossom lost her grip on the situation with the boys. The door crashed open, and three irate fairies launched themselves at the Stage Manager. Cobweb and Moth pelted him with sequins while Mustardseed rammed beads into his ears.
"Dance!" they commanded, and dance he did, hopping with impotent anger and pain from one foot to the other as he batted his meaty hands at them.

Peaseblossom-decorous, proper Peaseblossom-dropped her trousers to waggle her naked, pale bottom at the Stage Manager. Bertie laughed involuntarily, choked on her coffee, and nearly died as it came out her nose, but it was worth the searing pain in her nostrils to see the look on the Stage Manager's face.

The only reason I'm friends with any of you is because I outgrew the von Trapps, one annoying Austrian at a time.

My dearest Miss Farthing, will you do me the unutterable honor of wearing this cheap bit of metal that will most likely turn your finger green, pretending to love and honor me as your husband for the purposes of subterfuge and stratagem?