"I bow to you," you say as you get down on your knees.
You bow so that your nose touches your peach-colored carpet. Hm. It smells like dog.
When you rise the Golden Girls are still on the couch, looking at you kind of weird. "Erm, not that I don't enjoy bein' worshiped or anything," Blanche starts off in a southern drawl, "But uh, get back on the couch."
You do as told, blushing.
"Well, back in Saint Olaf, if someone bows to you that means that-" Rose tries to begin another one of her long and pointless Saint Olaf stories, only to be interrupted by, 'We don't care, Rose!' once again.