"You have very linguistic fingers," she aspirated, and embedded her clause into my dangling preposition. "Let's put the past participle behind us and get to the root of the word. I like to be tongue-tied... it's morpheme when bound. Subject me to your particle and treat me like an object. Ooh! How about a double entendre while we're in the mood?" she queried with a delightfully french accent. "After all, I'm singular, I agree with your gender, it's not just some phrase I'm going through... and let's conjugate!"
"Puck you're punny," I alliterated plosively. "Let's have syntax!"