Was that a faint twitch, in the corner of Ignis' mouth?

Perish the thought. Must have been a trick of the light. Or perhaps some anticipation of the arancini he was about to pluck up.

"Might I suggest," he mused, "you get started right away, then, to better staunch any further spread of this infection in progress? Perhaps this week, loudly criticize everyone's menu choices at Supper Club? And I suppose our lavish parties must now sadly come to an end. Everyone does love those, which no doubt is only contributing to the problem..."