"You’re as beautiful as a slimy, sticky squid," Jaskier sings, strumming the strings of his lute passionately, "and you’re as toxic as a spider; but when I think of you, oh, my dear she-demon, you send shudders down my spine as I only elicit your ire. While you may think there may be another one for me, perhaps a dame who’s prettier with a bosom that isn’t hiding serpents, my dear Yennefer, there is no one else but you—even with your pincers and—" Jaskier abruptly stops singing as the lute is torn from his hands and tossed against the wall. He continues to sing meekly, "I love your passion even though you are absolutely terrifying."
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"You’re as beautiful as a slimy, sticky squid," Jaskier sings, strumming the strings of his lute passionately, "and you’re as toxic as a spider; but when I think of you, oh, my dear she-demon, you send shudders down my spine as I only elicit your ire. While you may think there may be another one for me, perhaps a dame who’s prettier with a bosom that isn’t hiding serpents, my dear Yennefer, there is no one else but you—even with your pincers and—" Jaskier abruptly stops singing as the lute is torn from his hands and tossed against the wall. He continues to sing meekly, "I love your passion even though you are absolutely terrifying."