“What?” trumpeted Phoebe. “You want to offer baguettes? Elephants never baguette.”
“Look Phoebe, it’s nothing personal,” said Bradley. “I just think we could use a little more variety, that’s all.”
“Variety? We offer four kinds of naan, three styles of dosa, Greek pitas, and even some flour tortillas for the burrito lovers.”
“Okay, fine,” replied Bradley, “but where’s the crusty bread?”
“Nah, not gonna happen.” Phoebe shook her head, making her big ears flap. “We don’t do crusty bread around here.”
“Infidel!” piped up Mikey.
“Tone it down, Mikey,” scolded Phoebe.
“But crusty bread is buttery and delicious and fluffy!” pleaded Bradley.
“And my garlicky naan isn’t?” countered Phoebe, gray brow lowering.
“It’s delicious,” reassured Bradley. “But naan is meant to wrap around some spicy baingan bharta, or to scoop up some dal. It’s an accompaniment, not the feature.”
“That’s why we stuff dosas,” said Phoebe, “so that we can offer a full dish focusing on our quality bread.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to bake a rye loaf or toast up some honey wheat with a little mint jelly for tea time?”
“Off with his head!” giggled Mikey.
“Mikey, chill,” snapped Phoebe. “Listen, Bradley, those sound delightful. But I’d rather leave that for the English bakery down the street.”
“How about we just experiment with an old-school French hard loaf? Just to gauge interest.”
“How ’bout some New York bagels?” quipped Mikey. “D’ey’re da best!”
Phoebe turned and trumpeted loudly in Mikey’s face, blasting his hair back.
“Look,” Phoebe said to Bradley, “I appreciate your suggestions. And I may even deputize you to test them out sometime. But not in my oven. Elephants never baguette.”