“You don’t mind if we call you a ‘chick,’ do you?” I say nothing, because you’re onto me. You’ve guessed it. I am actually a socialist collective of 112 baby chickens dressed in a trenchcoat. Curse your perspicacity.
(A word to the wise: "Peelle" sounds like "peel", but if you spell it with a single L your email will not reach me. Also, I will be grumpy.)