Debbie never let a good story get told without her. And she always had a story, a "fun" fact, or other vaguely connected thing to say to the conversation at hand. She was a gadfly, flipping from group to group, chatting and laughing, dominating whatever conversation she became a part of, whether she knew anything about the subject or not. While most of the guests seemed to enjoy her company, she drove Mr. Brown quite crazy.

He pulled her aside to give her a small lecture, under the guise that he was very supportive, and blame unnamed guests instead. Or, that was the plan, as Debbie didn’t even give him the room to speak. Mr. Brown put his hand on Debbie’s shoulder, and quelled his growing headache a different, more interesting way.

Now, Debbie’s voice, and all the rest of her, would belong to whomever owned and played with her.