"Mmmmmmmmuh? Master?" Carlua put a hand to her forehead blearily, slightly hampered by both Spartoi's and Lemunia's hands, each wrapped around either breast. "Where are we?"
"A pi ba pi ba, a pi ba pi ba pi ba yo, yum yam yum yam choco baka yo" Spartoi sang at Carlua, using her bra cup. Suddenly there was a wet pop, and a stream of water launched itself toward Spartoi's eye.
His eyes (unwisely) widened, and with a cry of "HIT THE DECK!" he launched himself at, inexplicably, the body of the small woman wearing the blue business suit behind them. She obediently hit the deck.
Pazusu rubbed the bridge of his nose. Visibly composing himself, he stood, stepping around a sobbing Carlua, who was mourning her Lily of France (tm) brand Waterbra (r), and walked sedately to the kitchen.
The door swung open to reveal several large vats of boiling lard, a stack of magazines, and several very bare social workers. Pazusu stood in the doorway a moment more, wondering when the world had decided to go mad. He shook his head, stepping the rest of the way in and letting the door swing shut behind him. "I need a favor of one of you..."
A translucently pale women with rippling folds, bearing a name tag with 'Judy' written on it, clipped to an unmentionable place, stepped up eagerly, thrusting a ham-like fist genially in his face. "What'cha need, suga-bunch?"
Master stared malevolently out from behind a stack of CosmoGirls. The magazine, not actual females. He had recently developed an unwavering hatred of the Westerner's table, which was unfair to say the least since he hadn't even had to prepare their food yet. He still had the mandatory forty-five minute lag required after each order was taken, created by the managers in the hopes that gnawing hunger would cause a delirium, which would make the customers think they were getting good service and leave a big tip.
Masters inexplicable hatred was due to the fact that, outside of being obscenely, glaringly, and brutally retarded as a collective group, table 24 was considerably more good-looking than him. The bare social workers had noticed this also, causing Master the Lettuce Boy, or as he liked to be called, Masta the Leafy-Fold Separator, to lose his place as A-1 Pimp of the Ladies, as far as Outback was concerned. The only reason someone hadn't come yet to force unwanted coffee into half-full and lukewarm cups was that the ripplingly bare social workers were still drawing straws to see who got to go perform the act. The straws kept getting lost in beefy fists, so the group had resorted to several rounds of rock-paper-scissors, but due to lack of fingers, it was slow going.
Pazusu eyed Judy's outstretched hand, and took it gingerly. "I need-AUUGhh!" A strangled wail of pain made Pazusu pause, as Judy's attempt to utilize her original training of 'Firm handshake, look them in the eye, smile like you've got tapeworm eggs on your teeth', had crushed his hand. He ground his teeth against the pain. Judy ground her teeth as her training had instructed her to. 'This is going to be harder than I thought.....shit'
"A pi ba pi ba, a pi ba pi ba pi ba yo, yum yam yum yam choco baka yo" Spartoi sang at Carlua, using her bra cup. Suddenly there was a wet pop, and a stream of water launched itself toward Spartoi's eye.
His eyes (unwisely) widened, and with a cry of "HIT THE DECK!" he launched himself at, inexplicably, the body of the small woman wearing the blue business suit behind them. She obediently hit the deck.
Pazusu rubbed the bridge of his nose. Visibly composing himself, he stood, stepping around a sobbing Carlua, who was mourning her Lily of France (tm) brand Waterbra (r), and walked sedately to the kitchen.
The door swung open to reveal several large vats of boiling lard, a stack of magazines, and several very bare social workers. Pazusu stood in the doorway a moment more, wondering when the world had decided to go mad. He shook his head, stepping the rest of the way in and letting the door swing shut behind him. "I need a favor of one of you..."
A translucently pale women with rippling folds, bearing a name tag with 'Judy' written on it, clipped to an unmentionable place, stepped up eagerly, thrusting a ham-like fist genially in his face. "What'cha need, suga-bunch?"
Master stared malevolently out from behind a stack of CosmoGirls. The magazine, not actual females. He had recently developed an unwavering hatred of the Westerner's table, which was unfair to say the least since he hadn't even had to prepare their food yet. He still had the mandatory forty-five minute lag required after each order was taken, created by the managers in the hopes that gnawing hunger would cause a delirium, which would make the customers think they were getting good service and leave a big tip.
Masters inexplicable hatred was due to the fact that, outside of being obscenely, glaringly, and brutally retarded as a collective group, table 24 was considerably more good-looking than him. The bare social workers had noticed this also, causing Master the Lettuce Boy, or as he liked to be called, Masta the Leafy-Fold Separator, to lose his place as A-1 Pimp of the Ladies, as far as Outback was concerned. The only reason someone hadn't come yet to force unwanted coffee into half-full and lukewarm cups was that the ripplingly bare social workers were still drawing straws to see who got to go perform the act. The straws kept getting lost in beefy fists, so the group had resorted to several rounds of rock-paper-scissors, but due to lack of fingers, it was slow going.
Pazusu eyed Judy's outstretched hand, and took it gingerly. "I need-AUUGhh!" A strangled wail of pain made Pazusu pause, as Judy's attempt to utilize her original training of 'Firm handshake, look them in the eye, smile like you've got tapeworm eggs on your teeth', had crushed his hand. He ground his teeth against the pain. Judy ground her teeth as her training had instructed her to. 'This is going to be harder than I thought.....shit'