Molly edged to the side, letting an elderly woman take up the spot she once did. She grabbed her fiance's arm and frowned over to him. He refused to acknowledge her wish to go, no matter how many times she pouted to him or turned well-practiced puppy-eyes upon him. Huffing, she crossed her arms under her chest and turned to look up at Mr. Wickerbot.<br/><br/>She watched him move, finding him to be far too interesting to be considered a scientific genius. Weren't they supposed to have beards and glasses and be over the age of thirty? Shaking her head, she felt herself jostled to the side again and stamped her foot. "I insist that we leave here at once!"