"Excuse me?" he demands. "Are we dating? Were we suddenly married in some secret alien ceremony by me saying hi? What do I look like to you? A kitchen wench? I'm a freaking warlock! I have Demons!"
"Look meatsack, I'm not above hitting you upside the head with a voidwalker, cook you up with the pot in back and serve you up as some of my prized chicken wings. I am nobody's wife. And you certainly aren't my wife. And trust me, you don't want me to mistake you for my wife. That vixen went and turned me into the local paladin when I first started to get the Scourge. I would not be surprised if she actually knew what was in that soup she gave me that she didn't eat anything of. And so what happens? That pias prick goes and beats me down without even asking. Then, oh it gets better."
"When I finally freed my freaking mind from Arthas' control, I went to look for my 'loving' wife. When I found her, turns out she's shacked up with that slick little Mr. Shiney Pants Paladin!"
"So! If you think I'm going to get in the kitchen because of some freaky deaky marrital obligation you think I might have than sure... I've got a great batch of soup for ya."
