Jack just finished combing his hair as Vitus hollered for him to hurry the hell up. Luckily being dead meant that you didn't sweat all over your fancy duds as you rushed to get ready.
       "God, really getting into the Dad role are we?" he stuck his tongue out at Vitus, who slouched in the hall.
       "..annnd couldn't wear a tie?" Jack rolled his eyes
       "Ugh, no. They strangle me!"
       "...How does that even make sense? You don't even breathe dude. "
       "I cannot be confined."
       "I wonder what that says about your underwear habits.."
       "A man needs support Jack."

The small woman in sequins approached Jack.
     "Hello," she said in a amusingly high pitched, but very adult voice, "We met once, but you probably don't remember. Inka Lepponen, Thierry and Florence's mum."
     "Oh, um, hi! Yes, I'm Jack Ballar-um.. Whitechapel I guess now?" he awkwardly bent to shake her hand.
     "Indeed, you are a very lovely boy. I'm pleased to meet you." she seemed oddly calm and collected compared to the three other progenitors Jack had met.
     "Thank you."
     "I had a son named Jack once."
     "Oh really? Um, is he..."
     "He is long buried. All my children are dead, one way or other. Not all my fault!" she smiled a tiny impish smile. "That has a double meaning, hee hee! Enjoy the party dear!"
     Jack prefered to not consider that conversation any further.