“Whale! Squid!” She waits a beat. “Whale!” She waits a beat longer.
“Do you want me to make any more?” questions Shallot’s brother Jinn by her side, knife in hand.”
“Aww, no use. Chinatown is not what’s the happening place tonight. *Everyone* is up at the Seraph Club exploring Dean Martin!”
“Martin and Lewis this week,” agrees the more English fluent Jinn. “Rowan and Martin the next. Then after that, who knows. Maybe that Mr. Rowan Atkinson Bean who is so popular on television these days. If patterns hold,” he furthers.
“Too true brother.” They wait again.
“I’ll take one.” It was Jenny (future Your Mama), approaching from the bowels of the sub-town, fellow Pipersvillian Todd A. in tow. Trinkets filled her small backpack.
“Whale or squid?” Shallot asked expectantly.
“Don’t let her tell you that’s whale,” blabbers Jinn. “It’s a shark substitute. But shark (name) doesn’t sell as good as whale.”
“It’s *not* shark, Jinn.” returns an annoyed Shallot. “It’s just… a different kind of whale.”
“I’ll take it,” responds Jenny, looking up at Todd A. “Whatever — both of them.”
Then, around the corner, Jenny leans against the side of a building and opens the 2 containers, one after another, studying the contents in each.
“You’re not going to actually eat that are you?” queries Todd in front of her. “Because I’m sure not.”
“Nah.” She throws the food into a nearby gutter. “Just wanted to see what these Southerners eat.”
“Southerners,” grumbled Todd A. with her, and they moved away from Chinatown after that with only plastic souvenirs.