Aldo nods, and then turns to the butcher, calm and collected. "Sell it to him. I'll just take two smaller ones." He then turned to Ulvauno and bowed slightly. "I am sorry to have wasted your time, as my objections were clearly pointless." He then steps aside and waits for the actor to finish his business.

Internally, Aldo was fuming. He hated this with a burning passion. The injustice of having to surrender what his family had rightfully paid for made him want to cry. And deep down, he hated himself for wishing he was the one with this power. And the knowledge that it'd be all too easy to just stab the fool and be done it didn't help either. He wanted to do something, anything, to just get his turkey and be done, but the consequences would far outweigh the benefit. So instead, he did nothing, and let the bastard get what he wanted.

But none of that was apparent on his face or his demeanor. Because unlike the pretty boy tenor with a patron, Aldo was an actor, and that meant knowing how to play your role, even if only to an unappreciative audience of one.