Alas, Saturday's luck is just as good as it was the last five times she tried this. She charms, she cajoles, she flatters, she sweet-talks. Remy isn't even in the blast radius and he probably feels persuaded; she has fifteen social dice and she's using every one of them.

It is to no avail.

Defeated, Saturday returns with nothing more than a cup of mostly sugar and milk with some coffee added.

"Fie," she mutters, as she sits and sips it.