Quoted By:
Yea, you answer, a couple, actua-
“You kids ready to order?”
Turning to face the owner of the gravelly voice, you and the others find yourselves staring at an older waitress with a head of salt-and-pepper hair and a look on her face suggesting she’d rather be anywhere else right now, and yes, that includes in the jaws of a hungry lion, thank you for asking.
“A Green Salad for the whole table and a refill on our waters, please.” Recites Sybil as if reading off a manifesto. “We won’t be staying much longer, so that’ll be all, thanks!”
“B-but m-mozzarella sticks-” Plead You, Art and Talbot in perfect pitch and unison!
“You three need to start looking after yourselves!” The Goth lectures as your server walks away with a noncommittal grunt, “You just survived a <span class="mu-r">SKELETON APOCALYPSE</span>--do you really want to be taken down by <span class="mu-r">TRANS FATS?</span>”
We spent that whole shitshow eating whatever we wanted, though, you protest! It’s not FAIR!
“That, Stanley, was <span class="mu-i">surviva</span>. This,” Sybil adds as she takes the last onion ring and nibbles it, “Is <span class="mu-i">slow suicide</span>.”
“Typical!” Sighs Talbot as he angrily slumps onto the table, “Whatever happened to that ‘<span class="mu-i">my body, my choice</span>’ crap girls were harping about?”
“Stanley,” chirps Sybil with a forced smile on her pale face, “Please ask me your questions before Talbot says something <span class="mu-i">else</span> that’s stupid and offensive!”
Err, right, you mutter, silently resolving to treat-err, have <span class="mu-i">Talbot</span> treat you both to nachos after this, so this rai-
“<span class="mu-i">Business Trip</span>, Stanley.” The Goth corrects as she deliberately sweeps her eyes across the crowded restaurant, “We’re talking about our <span class="mu-i">Business Trip</span>, remember?”
Uh… okay, you shrug, so what exactly can we expect on this… trip, huh?
“Briefcases. Power Meetings. Pow-wows…” Replies Talbot as he angrily lists the items off on his fingers, “Y’know, the shit those <span class="mu-r">BUSINESS BITCHES</span> love so much–screwin’ the little guys an-”
“T, that’s not what we’re <span class="mu-i">actually</span> talking about…” Interrupts Art in a hushed tone!
“Then what <span class="mu-i">ARE</span> we talking about!?”
Oh boy…
>CONTD.
