Well, his head was still attached in both a figurative and literal sense, and she hadn't even cursed him magically, verbally, or in any other form. Saul considered this very promising and even encouraging. His enthusiasm waned slightly (though it rebounded nearly as fast as it normally did) when she said her talent of secret Dark rituals would not be well received by at least a portion of the potential audience, but the very fact that she had even hypothetically put herself on stage was all that Saul really needed for an opening. Her dismissive tone didn't even register with him.
Sure, she'd outright refused a stagehand position, but he had plenty of volunteers for that. It was stage parts that he was really trying to drum up in greater numbers. And she hadn't outright said she didn't want to perform.
"Me and Echo are going to write the script as soon as we know what kinds of talents and parts people want, so if you want to be the Dark Witch Villianess of the story, we can totally write that part for you. Connor's got dibs on playing the famous George Washington portrait, but everything else is wide open. We can write in minions for you, if you'd like," Saul's eyes were bright and excited as he made this offer, "I bet Simon - Mr. Tellerman, I mean, the groundskeeper - would let me borrow some elves for our act if we don't get enough people volunteers."
Forgetting every rumour he'd ever heard about Morgaine in particular and the Careys in general, Saul bounced slightly on his feet and gave her his most encouraging grin, trying to win her over with every bit of effort that he planned to use on his more reluctant close friends. "C'mon, Morgaine, you know you want to. Just a little? Please? All you gotta do is say what you want to be - Wicked Witch, Super Hero, a veterinarian, a pair of roller skates, you name it - we'll work it into the script. I'm aiming for 100% Pecari participation, make it a real House effort. It'll be fun, I promise."