“You better hurry up with your pie, Ruby. We’ve got a whole shake to get at (!).”
“Well… you hurry too,” Ruby commanded to her new acquaintance Tin Tin. “You’ve got a whole piece of pie to go as well.”
“Fork’s a little dirty,” he said, turning it round and round. “Maybe I should ask the waitress for a new one.”
“You can’t ask the waitress for a new fork every time you take a couple of bites (!). Just clean it off with your mouth, dufus. Your lips or tongue or something.”
“Hey, don’t call me stupid.”
“I didn’t,” Ruby returned measuredly. “I called you dufus.”
He stared at her, then just waved it off and took another bite. She did as well.
“Can we *please* stop talking about food all the time and get to why we came here?”
“We came for the talk,” Tin Tin returned. “*And* the food.” He started eating with his mouth open again.
Ruby couldn’t wait much longer. The water and the fish across the room seemed to be closing in on her. Maybe she has agoraphobia she didn’t know about before. Or maybe it’s simply the company crushing her down.
“I don’t think this pie is getting smaller, Ruby,” proclaims Tin Tin, looking down at it. He glanced over. “Neither is yours. Do you *feel* like you’re getting any fuller?”
“Yes,” she replied quickly, staring at his queerly two-toned face. Yes, she thought to herself. I’m certainly getting my fill of all this.
Yesterday, across the sim:
Hearing approaching footsteps, Tin Tin rolled over on his sleeping sofa.
“What are *you* doing here?”
“Well… what are *you* doing here?”