That hippy-dippy denim wedding dress she was making was awful; the Manolo could smell the patchouli through his television set. But, with the few choice words, the careful frown, and his signature chin-on-hand, elbow-in-other-hand, look-of-contemplative-disapproval, Tim conveys his doubts. Sweet P listens. Et voila! Sweet P prospers!
You know the drill, here's the whole thing.
Labels: Episode 9, Manolo
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