Gloriosa: Ollie! Oleander Lavande, help me! One of my babies just came home —
— and he wanted to see his Nana, but that man grabbed me and held me back while a stranger dragged the poor boy inside —
Who do you think you are, harassing a sweet old lady like that?
Thorn: Sir, she’s trespassing, as are you . . .
. . . and at this point, I can see you off this property in the polite way, or the rude way.