M and Me in a Midweek Misunderstanding

My oh my, what a prompt! My attempt may be seen below.

“May I have this dance, my dear, dear M?”

“Miss B, of course, how magnanimous of you, my word, my goodness, you most certainly may!”

“Minuet or Mashed Potato?”

“Might be the Macarena meshes more with the melody presently meandering around our ears?”

“Most certainly; the Macarena it is, then.”

“Macarena much, Miss B?”

“Maybe a little here, a little there.”

“Methinks you had this planned all along, to show off those marvelous Macarena skills, Miss B.”

“Moi? Might I remind you that you were the one who mentioned the Macarena, my dear M?”

“Maybe so, but methinks you manipulated me into choosing the Macarena, you mischievous Miss B, you!”

“Marry, how could I possibly manipulate you, dear M?”

“Marry? Me? Marry you? Me marry you? Mercy, are you proposing to me, Miss B?!?”

“My god, M, whatever gave you that idea?”

“Marry, you did say marry, did you not, Miss B?”

“My dear M, I was merely running out of exclamations that begin with M. Merely mortal am I; one would think you could cut me some slack!”

“Mistake acknowledged and explanation accepted. Merely mortal only just, my majestic Miss B! May I point out, however, that using a semicolon is more or less cheating?”

“More or less cheating? My word, you are a malapert monkey, aren’t you!”

“Mark that a semicolon is really just a way of merging two sentences, Miss B.”

“My master’s degree is in English, so yes, I’m well aware of that, my dear, dear M, but it is used to merge two sentences that are more closely connected than most; therefore it’s not cheating.”

“Meanwhile it’s tricky keeping step to this Macarena, even if I do have a marvelous dance partner like yourself, my ever magnificent Miss B.”

“Maybe we should stop dancing then?”

“Mmm, maybe we should, Miss M, maybe we should. Might I suggest something more… more…”

“My apologies–mitts of my mammalian glands, you monster!–my apologies if I’m mistaken, but isn’t it ‘hmm”, not ‘mmm’? M, M, M, look who’s cheating now, huh?”

“Me cheat? My word, I’ve never been so maligned in all my life, Miss M! Macarena be damned! Manage by yourself, why don’t you!”

“M! M, I’m sorry! M, come on, it’s merely a game, um, I mean dance.”

“My ears must be deceiving me! Merely a game, you said?!?”

“Misspeaking is something I do too often, M. Mind not my maundering mumblings, I beg of you.”

“Merely a game, though; I heard it clearly. ”

“May I be the one to point out, this time, your use of a semicolon, M?”

“My melancholy self feels misused, milked, manipulated, maltreated, and yes, mocked even!”

“Merely a dance is what I meant–really, M.”

“My heart breaks, Miss B. My very existence is a game to you. My feelings don’t matter?”

“Mmm.”

“Mmm?!?”

“Meant as a real question then, was it, not a rhetorical one?”

“Most certainly I meant it as a real question, my merciless Miss B! My existence hangs in the balance! My life depends on your answer!”

“My existence doesn’t, though–sorry. My blogging day, however, depends entirely on your cooperation, dear M, so…  M? … Please don’t storm off like that, M … M? … M! … Oh, fuck it.”