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Bored, Whizzer grabbed his book from the coffee table and began to thumb through it. He’d just begun to tune out Marvin and Trina's conversation, slipping into the world of Mary Ann Singleton and the eccentric residents of 28 Barbary Lane, when…
“Neyn, Neyn.” Marvin’s voice suddenly caught his attention, yanking him back into the living room. Marvin only switched to Yiddish when he didn’t want Whizzer to hear. Marvin’s ignorance was his own fault, really. He’d been the one to assume Whizzer couldn’t speak Yiddish in the first place, teasing him for being half Jewish. Whizzer had almost corrected him, once, but. Well. What would be the fun in that?
Or: three times Marvin spoke in Yiddish, + one time Whizzer responded.
