Simple foods. Necessities. Gwen was wondering if panic rooms and kitchens the size of three master bedrooms counted as a necessity. What? She was a girl who liked to live in the lap of luxury. Old habits, and all. Hey, it wasn't her fault all her hard work paid off.

She shook her head, because all of this polysyllabic blabbing was making her anxious. He was her own personal little tour guide on this Disney ride, the ones she'd heard about anyway, and really she just wanted to know how to get off and have some other poor sap take her spot.

Something in his speech caught her attention. She lifted an eyebrow. "Hatching items? Do tell. And try to lay low with the robot speak, handsome. I'm a simple girl."