Petra - Ain't Too Proud To Beg

From Masq
Date: Setting:

IC:  03/06/2008
RL: 11/19/2010

Pizza Palace -- Albuquerque

  Pizza Palace is a bustling restaurant filled with all types of people -- an interesting and thorough cross-section of humanity. The low prices and frequent specials attract everyone from hungry college kids to curmudgeonly old people; from pasty late-night nerds taking a break from MMOs to families with screaming, marinara-smeared toddlers. Pizza Palace is open 24/7 except for holidays, with a happy hour from four to seven, and offers just about every topping commonly or uncommonly found upon pizzas. The menu also includes a variety of non-pizza food options such as pasta, sandwiches, and salads, for freakish pizza-haters dragged here by their friends. Eat in, get it to go, or call from home for delivery!
  The restaurant has a reputation for hiring stoners and slackers, but it's a mostly clean place with booths and tables on the inside, plus an outdoor patio area for smokers and people with dogs. The floor is a checkerboard pattern of black and white linoleum squares, and all the chairs and booths are red. Each table is covered with a fresh sheet of butcher paper and is equipped with a little cup of crayons along with the napkins, parmesan, and red pepper flakes. Neon signs in the restaurant windows announce PIZZA! and BUDWEISER!, and CORONA!, along with the always-lit OPEN! sign. Video games both archaic and current tempt children to scream at their parents for quarters, and a karaoke area reminds tipsy customers that beer makes you an excellent singer.

~*~places are available here~*~

Obvious exits:
Out <O>  

Joel is sitting at a table with Sal, on the other side of the booth is Zack and Damian. Some people have food, others, crayons. Sausage partaaaaaaay.

If Damian prevents him from using that orange t-shirt as a convenient napkin substitute, Sal does the next obvious thing: using Damian's pants. He does the former by reaching OVER the table, and the latter by reaching UNDER the table. He's not exactly subtle.

"I know!" Damian says, sympathizing completely with Joel's oppressed need to do dumb things, "Eventually they'll understand how important it is to do these things. "You cou-AH!" Damian jumps, and the slap fight resumes under the table.

Zack scootches away from Damian as the young man gets himself molested. He's sitting with Kool and the gang and he's eating the large calzone in front of him. "Who's Nathan?" he wonders between gooey bites. Of his Calzone.

"Nathan is a bald musician who never talks when you see him," Joel explains to Zack. "He's... aloof. He was there the night I lost my shit and threw Ben into a shelf at your shop, but you might not remember on account of he was quiet. Nathan doesn't really open up to people. Or interact with them." Sitting next to Sal, he could be doing something to help protect Damian, but he's not. "You're like the yin to his yang. Like the missing part of Damian that's more stoned and more horny."

Jai strolls in, holding a musical instrument case in one hand; either it's a banjolele or he's got the world's smallest tommygun in there. He looks faintly disappointed at the serving counter, but brightens when he sees the people in the booth. "Oh, awesome. I get to pick up my tribute of terrible art after all," he remarks, possibly by way of greeting.

Damian has been drawing, a warbly blue mess on the butcher paper in front of him that might be what the clone of a clone of a clone of the cookie monster. Joel's comment makes him turn quite the shade of red, but he chooses the focus on the Nathan part of the comments, "He is not a *loof*!" he says, completely misunderstanding the definition of the word, or else he just doesn't know that one in english. "Besides, he's plenty talkative. If.. you're patient enough, I suppose. Oh. Hi. Jai. Look. It's Sal." Okay back to drawing, screw all this talking stuff.

Joel scoots out of the booth so he can pretend like he's working, and Jai can sit! Surely one can banjolele while seated. One can definitely tommygun while seated. "You want some food of some kind, Jai? Or are you just here to make a tribute of terrible art? You met Sal? We hadn't. We're glad we did, it's enlightening. That's Sal."

Zack makes short work of his calzone and makes to get out of his seat. "Oh, howdy Jaaaaay," he drawls, working on the pronouciation as he goes. "I don't know him," he decides at Joel's description of Nathan. "Anyway, nice to meetcha, Sal. Nice to see you again, Damian. Joel."

Sal smiles over at Joel, sitting back, now that the slap fight under the table has ended in his favor. Clean hands, ma! Clean hands! Examining his nails for a moment, he says with an insufferably self-pleased smile, "It's time to throw off those chains, addle our brains with madness. 'Cause we've got plenty of time to grow old and die. But when at last your beauty's faded, you'll be glad that I have waited for you." It's not clear exactly whom he is addressing. "I've been around for years, you know," he adds with faint reproach, lowering those impossible lashes in a coy sort of way. "But if no one's going to notice, I'll just take longer smoke breaks."

"Take care, Z," Joel offers to the departing Texan, fondly. "I'll stop by and see you later." Eggplants.

"Take care!" Damian says, but totally does not refer to the guy as Z, "I'll drop that stuff by the store later for you and Katie." Snagging a napkin out of the dispenser on the table, ON THE TABLE, he ducks his hands under the table to jack furiously, or possibly try to scrub pizza grease out of his pants.

"Oh, hey, Damian," Jai greets his friend, and if the edges of his ears turn pink, it's probably from coming in from the cold to the warmth like that. "Oh, and Sal, hey. Nice seeing you again. And you, Zeke." A small wave to Zack. He sets the instrument down next to Damian, and then follows Joel to the counter. "I do in fact want food. And I believe it is you that promised me terrible art. I intend to collect."

Pizza Palace engineers their pizza grease to be chemically impossible to remove from clothing, so Damian is basically doomed. Joel laughs, at Jai's reminder! "Oh... yeah, I forgot. Take a seat and tell me what you want to order, then tell me what you want drawn. It'll be awesome." To Sal, a speculative glance. "Madness is a chain of its own, innit? And some beauty doesn't fade. No matter how much you want it to."

"Oh, I don't know," Sal says with a lazy shrug. "If I were the sun, you would be in shadow, is all. That's heavy, man. Real heavy." He scarfs down more pizza, though there's plenty to go around... just like Sal himself! RIMSHOT.

"There'll be no tomorrow," Zack agrees with a chipper wave as he stands up. "I'll see y'all later. I gotta git goin' while the gittin's good." He snags his helmet and stuffs his hands into his pockets. Time to ditch this sausagefest!

"Maybe so." Damian agrees vaguely, giving up on his pants and muttering, "Pickles." by way of cursing. Ah well, nothing to do but steal some of Sal's pizza, and if there's anchovies on there, their gross little nasty forms will be remooooved.

And with that, Zack makes his way for the exit. "See y'all later," he threatens as he slips out of the pizza joint.

"I'm thinking... pizza. Some kind of pizza that is delicious. How about... pineapple, pepperoni, peppers, prawns, and proscuitto? If you have all those. Otherwise, just the ones you have," Jai decides, sliding in next to Sal. Apparently he just thinks the banjolele's safer next to Damian. "And then you should surprise me with the art. Wouldn't want to step on your muse." Zack gets a small wave goodbye, but nothing else.

"I'm glad you're not the sun. Had about all I can take of shadows, and you always get the darkest shadows in the brightest sun." Joel replies to Sal, because apparently he speaks Crazy like that lady in Airplane speaks Jive. Fetching a little notepad, he jots down Jai's order. "Yeah, we have all those things. Not to fuck with your alliteration, but you're in America, and prawns are usually called shrimp." He points at the menu board with the toppings. "Shrimp."

Damian is kickin' it at a booth with Jai and Sal, the single syllable people on one side, and Damian and the banjolele on the other. Damian is nomming pizza he didn't pay for and drawing on the paper. "That doesn't sound like it's going to taste very good." he tells Jai.

"Yeah, but as you noted, that totally fucks with my alliteration. Turns it from a P 'za into a P-and-S 'za, which doesn't work nearly as well. I guess I could just not have included them, but they're delicious, so screw that. ...I think technically they're different species, but whatever, I can't tell them apart and I wanted whichever you had, so it's not like I can use that excuse." He snags a crayon and starts doodling on the paper in front of him as well, shaking his head at Damian's remark. "Everything I listed's delicious, so it'll be delicious. That's just logical."

Petra slips in through the glass doors, hands covered by black cashmere gloves and her jacket buttoned up against the cold. She stops just inside the restaurant and her eyes scan the interior, stopping when they spot Joel. "Joooooooooooooooooooel," she calls out, and starts heading towards him. About halfway there, she spots the booth of Mostly People She Knows, and she greets, "Jai! Damian! Person I Don't Know! Hiya!"

"It's going to taste like disappointment and failure, because of the shrimp," Joel grins at Jai. "Anyone want drinks or whatever, while I'm bringing food this way?" Then someone is elongating his name, and Joel turns to greet, "Peeeeeeeeeeeetra! The person you don't know is Sal, and he's either high or a Barenaked Ladies song."

"Yes please!" Damian says politely when Joel offers liquid refreshment. He forgets to say what he'd like though, or is just that unpicky about things. "Petra!" he says happily, unable to miss her entrance. He's catching a cold or something, or else Sal's groping has scarred him for life, he has a bit of a permanent blush happening.

"DELICIOUS disappointment and failure. And Coke, please!" Jai replies to Joel, and then there's a familiar voice, and he brightens perceptibly when he looks over. "Imp! Come join us!" He pats what remains of the booth seat next to him, though there's a lot more room across the table next to Damian and the banjolele. Maybe it's just something about the weather, but his ears are somewhat pinker than usual at the moment as well.

"Hello Damian! Hello my loyal subject!" Petra is cheery as all get-out tonight, and takes the indicated seat next to Jai. "What is this delicious disappointment-and-failure pizza I keep hearing about? I hear it's all the rage! And hello, Sal! Nice to meet you!" She then looks to Joel and waves a hand airily. "Bring me an ice water, slave!"

Joel wanders off to deliver the order for Jai's Disappointment Special, and returns with the promised drinks... he even carries them one-handed on a tray, all awesome-like because he has several dots in waiter-fu. Jai gets a Coke like he asked, Damian gets a beer just to see what will happen, and Petra gets strawberry Fanta for being haughty.

Damian ...accepts the beer! Although he glances around all paranoid like, as if feds will burst in and demand to see his papers. "This is so weird, I don't know that I'll ever get used to seeing you at work, Joel."

"Oh well, I don't know. Too many options," Sal remarks vaguely, leaning back against his seat in the booth and growing very still and silent and uncommunicative for a while. In this way, he probably loses the remnants of his pizza to filthy thieves Bagginses.

Jai grins at Petra again when she sits. "It's gonna have pineapple, pepperoni, peppers, prosciutto, and PRAWNS," he tells her, except for the last couple words, which are quite clearly to Joel. "I have dubbed it P 'za. Joel doubts my topping prowess." He settles back in his seat, taking a sip of his Coke, and glances toward Damian, then at the ceiling. Which appears to be fascinating, albeit briefly.

"All right, I have to go smoke," Sal announces. "If people are interested in a special cookie party... and I do mean special... Damian knows where I live." he extricates himself out of the booth by climbing under the table and squeezing on out. "Joel, I owe you a pizza, man. Pizza delivery." This causes Sal to laugh for quite some time for some unknown reason. He might still be high! With some more goodbyes, he slides on out the door, into the night, like the Lone Ranger.

"That sounds absolutely disgusting," Petra says, grinning widely. "That is indeed a Failure P 'za. All you need is like parmesan and you'd be set." She waggles her fingers at the departing Sal, and then turns to Damian, giving him a questioning look. "So, party? I assume I don't have to remove your limbs to get the invite?"

Sal winks at Petra on his way out. "Beware the sausage fest of March," he cautions her, "I wish I could stay and keep you company. Alas!"

"Well, you're gonna have to get used to it, until I find a way to become independently wealthy," Joel dryly notes to Damian. "I've tried to pay the bills with being awesome and saving the world, but there's just no money in it." Sal leaves, and Joel seems kinda disappointed! Sal makes things interesting. "Don't forget, you have to work here!" he calls after the stoner. To Petra, "I'll bring you ice water, if you grovel."

"Do be safe, Sal, it was so nice seeing you again!" Damian says as his evil hippie twin gets up, and then tells Jai, "I still don't think it's gonna be very tasty." he says about the P'za. For Joel, his only advice is, "You should look into living in a cave."

"Later, Sal!" Jai says, waving a crayon at the guy, and for the moment ignores the fact that there's now a whole person's worth of extra space in the booth on his other side. "Oh, parmesean! Brilliant. Hey, Joel, is it too late to have some parmesean on that too? Or a shaker of it, or whatever... Anyway, it sounds absolutely delicious and you know it. You're just jealous I thought of it first. Jealous!" He grins at her again, and glances to Damian. "So is Sal planning a party at a particular time, or just to have a fresh batch of cookies available for impromptu parties at all times? 'cause I would believe that."

"Wait, what?" Petra says belatedly, looking at her Fanta with dismay. "Joel! JOEL. JOOOOOOOEL. This is not a water. What the hell, man? I thought we loved each other more than this. I thought you cared enough to bring me only the very best, not this horrific sugary abomination." She emits a long-suffering sigh, saying, "I'm not groveling, Sol. I am *demanding*. If I am not brought a water in the next 3.5 seconds, you are going to regret it for the rest of your very short life."

"I should," Joel admits to Damian, and actually sounds sort of wistful. "A nice cave, far away from everything, where it's quiet and dark, and there's bats... I like bats." He's sort of lost in that thought for a moment, then snaps out of it. "It'd be a bit of a commute into town, though. And it'd be a pain to move all my books, and my couch." Cause god forbid we part with either. He points out the parmesan shaker on the table to Jai, "Don't worry, it's under control. You have total control over how much of the next alliterative ingredient you want on your P-za." And then for Petra... Oh, poor Petra, he just grins broadly and evilly. "Oh, you're demanding and threatening? Let me know how that works out for ya."

"That's not very much time." Damian tells Petra, and kicks her under the table. "I'm sorry!" he says quickly, as it was totally just an accident. It's those long dancer's legs. A nice swig of beer, which he has totally had before apparently. HE is totally polite and tells Joel, "Thank you very much, by the way. Most people wont let me have beer." He probably turns into a raging psychopath that pees on everything or something. Nice going Joel.

"Yeah, but Sal prolly touched that one," Jai points out, eying the shaker at the table, "And I dunno where his hands have been. Except Damian's pants." Possibly the innuendo of that only hits after he says it, since he suddenly blushes a bit again. "I guess it'll do in a pinch." He shakes his head at Joel's lack of compliance with demands and says, "Hey, the Imperatrix has spoken. You're gonna end up on a crucifix or something, and then where'll we be?"

Shaking her head with what looks like real sadness, Petra tells Joel, "I will miss our good times together, Sol. I will cherish your memory, much as I will cherish the bleached bones of your skeleton which I will hang in my living room as a warning to others." She slips out of the booth and looks to Jai. "Get 'im."

"What's the worst that can happen?" Joel has yet to see Damian turn into a raging, peeing psychopath. "It's just beer." He considers Jai's words, then decides, "Yeah, that's fair," and reaches for the parmesan shaker. "I'll bring you a new one when I get your 'za, I think it's almost done. If I end up on a crucifix, you all can be my first apostles after I appear to you in undead form after a couple of days. It'll be pretty sweet. Give it a thousand years and people will make holy pilgrimages to Pizza Palace." He tsks at Petra, "Be reasonable. Jai isn't going to attack me, I haven't brought him his special pizza yet."

"...Worshiping him?" Damian wonders aloud, considering the last dude that got crucified. The rest causes a laugh mid drink and he tries to keep beer suds from going out his nose. "How come you call Joel after the sun?" he asks Petra while getting a napkin and carefully grooming his beered up goatee.

Jai sighs deeply, and slides out of the booth, shaking his head. "Man, this is difficult. Deliciousness versus duty. Though, I think bleached bones will clash with your couch, Imp." He considers the drinks, leaning on the edge of the booth-back, and eyes Joel a moment. "So hey, Joel. Thirstier than I thought. Can I get a glass of ice water?" he inquires, all innocence.

"Because the world revolves around him, 'Zilla. He is the center of all that happens, and that around which all other things orbit," Petra explains for Damian's benefit. "However, he's about to go SUPERNOVA." She slides back into the booth as Jai goes over to Joel, and folds her hands on the table in front of her. The approach he takes makes her grin with amusement.

Joel beams at Jai. He likes Jai! Friendly, loquacious Jai, he of the Sweet Ride, who could deny this man anything? "Sure!" Joel brightly offers. "I'll get you an ice water." Unhurried, he meanders towards the back of the restaurant. When he returns, a single glass is on the tray, covered with a black cloth napkin (who knew pizza palace even had those?). With great ceremony, Joel sets the cup down at Jai's place, then... UNVEILS! Bam. Strawberry Fanta. "I think the pizza's done!" he adds cheerily, then vanishes again to the back area to go fetch it.

"That... is strangely fitting." Damian says after thinking about the nickname for a moment, "I don't think I would have ever thought it up, but it actually is. I may have to take up calling him that as well." Which will probably help the player stop typing Jowl all the damned time. Damian *loses* it at the unveiling of the soda, dissolving into fits of laughter in his corner of the booth.

Jai looks oddly pleased with Damian's approval of the Sol nickname, considering he hasn't even said it himself, and he awaits his water, watching as Joel parades the glass back to them. When the glass is unveiled, there's just the smallest hint of a twitch to the corner of his mouth, and he reaches over to pick it up and take a sip from the straw. ", hey, Joel?" he says, strolling after the guy as far as the counter, "I think there's something wrong with my water. It's all fizzy and tastes kinda like strawberries. Also, it's pink. And I mean, I don't like to judge, but I like the old fashioned kinda water, that's clear and flavourless and mostly comes out of taps." Pause. "But the ice is perfect!"

Raising a fist and shaking it at the heavens, Petra cries out, "JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEL!" It's much like KHAAAAAAAAN only with more O's. And even more dramatic, which is quite a feat! "Praetor!" she says, pointing a finger at Jai. "You have FAILED your Imperatrix! FAILED. This must be rectified!" Jerking a thumb at him then, she informs Damian, "Jai came up with the nickname. He comes up with all the good ones. He's a funny guy." She glares balefully at the Fanta Joel brought her earlier, then digs out her phone, tapping on the screen.

You text to Joel: Bring me a water or the couch gets it!

Damian gets a hold of himself, wiping at his eyes and sipping his beer, "What do yours and Jai's mean?" he asks while trying to find his crayon again for drawing purposes.

Jai eyes the area behind the counter while Joel's getting his pizza, checking for useful things like, say, a sink he can reach. "It will be rectified!" he assures Petra, "...also, shhh, you're totally blowing my cover!" He has a mission, so she's left to explain the names.

"They're Roman titles. Imperatrix is like, Empress. I think, anyway. And Imp is just short for that. And yet oh so fitting. Praetor's some title for a General or somesuch. Since he's my bodyguard, advisor and hitman, it's fitting." Petra kicks Damian under the table, lightly, and says, "Oops, sorry," in much the same quick manner he did earlier. Only, you know, it probably wasn't accidental at all. "I've decided we need nicknames for, like, everybody. Liane already has one. What should Nathan be, do you think?"

Joel returns with the P-za, all ingredients made to order! "You know you can put Petra on this, and have another P-ingredient," he points out to Jai as he sets it down. "Why are you /her/ minion, anyway? I can offer you benefits and higher pay and a generous four-week vacation package. And pizza. Can Petra give you pizza? No, no, Petra cannot."

"Oh, that's really coo-- oooooooooooowwwwwww!" Damian whines and brings his shin up protectively, and if there's one thing he can do well it's big sad eyes. It's an art! He looks to Jai then and says, "You should maybe really consider Joel's offer."

"Don't think that didn't occur to me," Jai replies, sounding entirely sincere about that, "But I figured I'd wait and see how it tastes as it is. Then maybe a sprinkling of Petra if it needs more flavour. And deliciousness." He leans on the counter, Fanta in hand, giving the pizza at the table a longing look. "It's an intriguing offer, I gotta admit. Though I should note she =can= give me pizza. I'm pretty sure she has before, actually. But how would I live with myself if I changed sides? My loyalty and integrity are everything. Everything! Also, can I use your sink?"

"I know how to cook," Petra agrees with Jai's assessment that she can provide pizza. "Also, you cannot provide the opportunity to bask in my radiant presence, and that is an honor above all honors. My Praetor may have failed me in this one instance, but I do not doubt his loyalty. Which is more than I can say for SOME people." And here, of course, she glares at Damian.

"Nope," Joel thwarts Jai's plan to use the sink. "Sorry, there's a very strict 'no customers in the business zone' rule. You can grovel, though, I'll accept that. You have to act like you're Petra while you grovel, of course, otherwise it's no good for you to be her proxy. But I'm pretty sure you can do an awesome Petra impersonation, right?" He steals Parmesan from a table Sal didn't contaminate, for Jai's pizza'ing pleasure.

Damian sticks his tongue out at Petra and pulls both legs up onto his side of the booth, beer drinking and staying *away* from mean, mean wimmin. His drawing is more or less abandoned for now, just twiddling his crayon in his fingers.

Jai nods to Petra's explanation, admitting, "The radiant presence =is= a major draw." He takes another sip of the Fanta, which apparently meets his personal approval, if not Petra's. Joel's offer gets a considering head-tilt, and then a quirked brow at Petra, checking for disagreement with that offer from her quarter.

Waving a hand airily, Petra allows, "Grovel away, servant mine." She idly swings one leg, eying Jai and Joel with interest. "I look forward to seeing another Petra impersonation." So apparently she's seen at least one.

"I think I'd be downright terrified to see a Joel impersonation," Joel Himself admits. "I've never seen one before, and things should probably stay that way. The world isn't ready for that." Petra impersonations, however, are greenlighted, and he looks to Jai with a big grin! "Earn that water, Jai. Do us proud."

Damian snirks quietly but doesn't interfere, just watching for now. JUST WATCHING. This could be awesome or terrible, either one, but likely hilarious.

"Okay," Jai says, nodding again, "Deal." He takes another sip of the Fanta, looks to Petra for a moment consideringly, and shifts his body to stand more like she tends to. He clasps the glass of Fanta in front of his chest with both hands and slumps his shoulders so that he can look up to Joel with Big Eyes(tm), and then opens his mouth. It's recognizably Petra's voice that comes out, saying, "Oh please, mighty Sol, he whom the very Earth revolves around, who makes all life possible, please, may I have a glass of delicious iced water to cut the heat of your radiance?"

The real Petra has trouble staying quiet as Jai impersonates her, and as he stops speaking, she bursts out laughing. She brings her hands together for a round of applause, calling out, "Yaaaay! Bravo, bravo! Beautiful!"

Joel is likewise laughing, absolutely delighted! He picks up the Fanta in front of Petra and re-parks it in front of Damian, because the only thing better than giving him alcohol is giving him sugar, then applauds Jai. "Well done. You are a skilled and faithful servant in the service of your empress. Groveling accepted." Joel turns and vanishes back into employee land, and then returns, fiiiiinally, with a glass of ice water for Petra. He even put a pink cocktail umbrella in it.

Damian grins at Jai's performance and says, "That was pretty fantastic!" He applauds around his bottle and then sips.. Damned thing's gone and gotten itself empty. "Oh! OH! Get another one of these too!" he says, waving his bottle at Joel's back, "Please! And thank you!" Ah well, there's Fanta for now.

Jai beams, and bows deeply, just managing not to spill the soda he's holding. "Thank you, thank you!" he exclaims, still in Petra's voice, and then in his own, "I'll be here all week. Try the veal! Hey, you don't have veal as a topping, do you?" A glance to the toppings board to confirm that they aren't that wide-ranging in their toppings, and he returns to the booth, sliding in beside Petra again and setting the Fanta down next to his Coke. "And now... P 'za."

Petra slides down off the booth to the floor and crawls out from under the table, sliding the water in front of Jai. "Not in the mood for water anymore," she says breezily, giving him a wicked little grin. "Now that I have obtained what I sought after for so long, I find it lacking. Also: I'm tired and have a shift tomorrow morning. Good night, you crazy kids."

"You're monstrous," Joel informs Petra, with a grin. "You can at least let Damian have it, since I haven't gotten him a water yet. And I think he'd like the tiny umbrella. Right?" he asks of Damian, whom he's apparently sure will share his fascination with the things. It's like a regular umbrella! But it's tiny! Who doesn't love that? "I'm probably gonna have to leave in a minute too, I hear someone answering the phone back there, and unless it's a prank that means someone's gonna want shit delivered."

"Goodnight, Petra!" Damian says, though he cant help but laugh at her theatrics. Once she's a safe distance, he decides to put his feet back on the ground. "I would in fact love the tiny umbrella, and add it to my treasures at home." he assures with a nod. "Yeah, it's all... late and stuff."

"Aw, man. I can only hope that's not your usual reaction," Jai tells Petra, and gives the water a small shake of the head before obligingly pushing it across to Damian. He looks back to her, and lifts a hand in a little wave. "Night, Imp. Try not to destroy the universe."

"I am indeed monstrous. It's one of my best selling points. Enjoy the umbrella, 'Zilla." Petra waves to Joel and Damian, then Jai, telling the latter, "I will do my best, but it is *oh* so tempting. You have NO idea. Night!" And with that, she heads out of the restaurant, waving over her shoulder.

Someone's yelling Joel's name from the back of the Pizza Palace, which we should perhaps refer to as the Palace's dungeon. And sadly, Joel is not the dungeon master. "Mm... duty calls," he apologizes. "Anyway, Petra left, so the spark has really gone right out of life, hasn't it? Jai, make sure Damian and his umbrella get home safe, okay? Okay." So basically Jai and Clara have to deal with Damian's transformation into a rage-peeing psychopath, cause Joel is out of here. The masses need pizza, and their needs must be attended to! He offers the pair a casual salute-wave, and then he is gone.

Damian takes the little umbrella out of the water so that he can open and close it several times in quick succession with a little papery flappy sound. "Sweeeet." he says of the little thing, "If he's not going to let me have more beer," he says to Jai as Joel goes, "Do you have your awesome flask?" He calls to Joel's back, "Drive safely, Joel!'

Jai waves to Joel, and then steps lightly on the toe of Damian's boot. "...yeah, but I think BYOB breaks some kinda health regulation. I could talk them into giving me a box, and we could go eat this somewhere else, though, if you want."

"The hot springs sound pretty inviting, if you ask me." Damian says casually, tucking his umbrella away for later playing.

"Hell yeah," Jai agrees, grinning across at Damian, "Dude, you know what would be awesome? One of those floaty rings with a plastic sheet on top so I could put the pizza on it and eat it in the springs. Oh, and in like nine months I can start buying you beer. So hey, something to look forward to, yeah?" He gets up and heads for the counter, taking his Coke and Fanta along with him.

"Noooooo! You cant eat in the *springs*!" Damian insists while sliding out of the booth, "We'll just hang out in the parking lot and eat there before going in."

"Why not? I won't drop any," Jai says, "And even if I did, it's not like other people and animals and nature by itself don't drop stuff in there, right?" He gets his drinks transferred to to-go cups, and gets a box for the pizza, stealing a slice out of it to munch on while he packs things up, and while it's still vaguely hot.

"You are not eating in the hot springs." Damian says firmly and with a finger pointed at Jai's nose. He helpfully carries the pizza on the way out.