Sure, Philip may look exceptionally clean-shaven today, washed and groomed and clothing bright and fresh, without even the slightest drop of blood or speck of dirt, but that doesn't mean he's in the mood to play house any more than usual.

Still, there's a familiar face who, for all he knows, is actually entirely unfamiliar with the situation... or at least the monster of a memory this event was born from. Not that details matter, as long as you're playing along.

"Er, thank y--"

And if it might risk harming the both of them he probably can't afford not to.

"Thanks, love."

He flashes her a smile, awkward and apologetic.

"What... uhm, what would I do without your homemade lemona--"

"That's right, Philip is juuust parched! But there is something he needs to get done real quick before he can enjoy a sip of his gorgeous wife's lemonade! Isn't that right, Philip?"

"Er..."

He grimaces. Catches Annie's eyes with a bewildered shrug. What the bloody hell are they even advertising here?