Why? To make a wardrobe for toy horses, of course. I MEAN, NATURALLY, RIGHT? [turbans, dressing gowns, smoking jackets, naughty lingerie, peasant vests. FOR HORSE TOYS.] Omg, I should not be this excited. I looked around for a toy pageboy cap (because Skidoodle is Oirish, don' cha ken?) but realized I'm going to have to make one. And while I searched I realized that there is actually a world of women out there that do this stuff UNIRONICALLY. Like, they just enjoy dressing up their toys and COMPETING. Competing.
Not young girls, GROWN WOMEN. I promise I will not turn into that. I promise.
But look at this cad! This bastard! This wealthy playboy that gets what he wants, when he wants it, and right now he wants to force Fancy Face Von Linestock to marry him and give him babies!
LOOK AT THAT SMUG BASTARD! He sounds like Jeremy Irons in my head, by the way.
Oh, Ransom, how many fillies hearts will you break before your lust is ever sated?