Rhyme & Reason 5:
[ K A K A R O T T O ]



Notes: Gokou didn't ever go off with that weird Ubuu kid :P



Black. Dark gray. Navy blue. More black. Oh, here's some green, but it's so dark it might as well be black. Oh, wait, what's this? White? Could it really be?

He pulled the contrasting material out of the drawer. It was a white T-shirt with the words CAPSULE CORP. written boldlyacross the front in red. On the back was the number five.

Vejiita's such a gloomy guy, Chester thought, pulling the old white shirt over his head, with all this black stuff. Gothic freak. He chuckled quietly. He preferred bright, bold colors himself. This white shirt with red lettering, however, would be good enough for now. He could always steal Vejiita's youngest son's clothes if he really wanted to. He and the fourteen-year-old probably were about the same size. Bah, he thought. It's just clothes. He buckled a black belt around his waist, holding the worn khaki pants up. He should be worrying more about Vejiita's diet than his wardrobe.

Vejiita ate okay, considering his size, but it wouldn't hurt for him to eat more. Especially now – ever since Gold-Eye had delivered the letter from Craig of what Chester had told him many years ago, Vejiita seemed... deflated. This was what he had warned Craig of. Vejiita had been spacing out more often on his own, with neither Chester nor the others intruding on his consciousness. He spaced out during mealtimes and in the middle of scheduled training times -- both his own personal training, and sparring sessions scheduled with Kakarotto.

In the kitchen now, Chester looked over the refrigerator door at the wall calender. Vejiita's daughter always crossed off one square box every evening, right after supper. The last box was the eighth. It was in the very center of the row. So today was Wednesday the ninth. Of September. And the clock above the calendar indicated that it was a quarter to eleven a.m.

He and Kakarotto had a sparring session at two o' clock. Or was it one? Chester shrugged, pulling out leftover spaghetti and a container of tomato sauce. Details. He'd go at one and if Kakarotto was not there – which was very likely, considering all the sessions Vejiita had already failed to meet – he'd simply go to Kakarotto and make him fight. It was for Vejiita's own good. Besides, Chester liked Kakarotto. He was always nice to him, despite his tardiness and arrogance in the past. He had been extremely pleased when he heard that Kakarotto was returning from the dead permanently. Mont's indignation was amusing.

However, he hesitated to say that he liked him the same way he liked Craigie. They were very different. Craig was loud, a pervert at the best of times. Kakarotto was just as childish as the other, but more innocent. But he wasn't a dumbass, really.

Chester mixed the tomato sauce onto the cold spaghetti on his plate and inhaled it and jumped right back up to the fridge.

Craigie. Chester wished more than Vejiita that it had been Craig who delivered the letter rather than Gold-Eye. It wasn't like the reunion with Gold-Eye meant anything to him; he wasn't his son, after all. And he already knew what was the in letter. He was from where all the information originally came.

Sitting on the floor this time, leaning against the cupboards. He remembered that day well. Vividly. That dreary day when he was nineteen, he and the other erratic Saiyajin had sat across from each other at a small round table in a cramped cafeteria at the departure hangar. He and Craig had just gotten notice of where they were going to reassigned to. It said that they would be called to leave later tonight or sometime during the next day. The planet their home had been on for the last decade had recently been declared impracticable and useless. This headquarters was to be barren by the end of the week and the planet's surface was going to cleaned off and the atmosphere filtered of the toxins that had gathered over the many years it had harbored Freeza's anything but preservative headquarters.

They had taken the news badly. Craig was beyond pissed. Vejiita was sad. He knew much of relocating. He hated being uprooted. It took him so long to readjust to a new place. And the chance of he and Craig ending up with each other was... very unlikely. He didn't respond to Craig's raving over the topic; it was his way of expressing grief over moving.

But, today, possibly the last time they'd ever sit together, Craig was somber. Quiet. So unlike him, it unnerved and plainly upset Vejiita. He had nothing to say; it was up to his friend to fill up the gaps between saying hello and saying goodbye.

Chester had to say something.

He had to get it out. It was wigging him out almost as much as it was Vejiita.

He told him everything. He knew the other was skeptical, but intrigued all the same. The reasons behind Vejiita's drastic mood swings were coming into place. Craig accepted Chester's introduction of himself as a separate entity of Vejiita soundly. It was the others he knew he was nervous about. Of course, after having divulged rather detailed scenes of Vejiita's life, he shut up and went back to listening. Chester had screamed at him, and he had great lungs for screaming.

He was surprised when Craig asked if he could tell Vejiita about it. He knew that Vejiita wasn't aware of the people who shared his body, and Chester supposed he was concerned for him. Chester shrugged it off with a vague affirmation; yes, tell him if you wish, just be sensitive about it. He's not as casual as I.

He was nineteen then. After he and Craig had left the condemned headquarters, Vejiita had lived his life alone and had grown up to be the thirty-nine year old man he was today. Chester was still nineteen. And there he would remain.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Son Gokou pulled on his heavy training shoes in preparation for the sparring match with Vejiita later this afternoon. Hopefully, he added. He was a bit worried about him. Goten had told him after returning one evening after a day with Trunks that his friend's parents weren't getting along that well. Bulma was becoming exasperated with Vejiita's aloofness. "He's acting strange," Trunks had reported the last time he was at the Son residence, three days ago. "More than usual. Not himself at all."

No kidding, Gokou had agreed when he heard that. He remembered, perturbed, their last session, which was two weeks ago. They had sparred for not even twenty minutes when Vejiita had abruptly stopped, landed, and sat down. Naturally concerned, he said, "Vejiita, what's wrong?" Are you tired, are you hurt? he asked, cringing inwardly at the expected answer.

He was leaned forward, his eyes unfocused and concentrating on something past Gokou. His face betrayed no emotion. He didn't say anything to Gokou's badgering at first, then vaguely complained of stomach pains. He said he didn't want to spar anymore that day. Gokou's concern doubled. Vejiita, admitting that he was in pain? Didn't want to fight?

The next week he hadn't shown up.

He had been absent for such sessions before, but he always returned eventually, usually after no more than two misses. Ordinarily, when the other Saiyajin hackled him about missing the sessions, he would either dismiss his questions with a casual wave of a hand; usually, however, he would terminate the interrogation by attacking him and thus starting the sparring match.

At noon – lunch – Goten noticed his father's training gear. He smiled. "Father, going to spar with Vejiita-San today?" Vejiita was almost like a second father to him, or at least another older brother. He liked him because Vejiita meant Trunks. They were just as close now as they had been before and during the Buu fiasco.

Gokou smiled and was about to say that he was, but Chichi cut him off. "I don't know why you trouble yourself with that guy, Gokou," she said. "It's obviously he doesn't care about you, or he would be more responsible about these sparring sessions." She no longer bothered to voice her distaste at these frequent sparring sessions. The complaint always lingered silently at the end of her sentences. "I don't understand why anyone would want to be with him," she finished off. She ignored Goten, who had angrily shoved a forkful of food in his mouth to keep from yelling. She was insulting Vejiita-San, and therefore Trunks, and therefore Goten himself.

Gokou laughed. "He's Vejiita, Chichi. This is just how he is. You know how moody he is."

"Indeed," she murmured bitterly.

He didn't say anything more, he knew the conversation was over. She was wrong, but her annoyance was justified: Vejiita wasn't a nice guy, but for sure he had his reasons! He burrowed his brow but tried not to look too worried. Something was definitely wrong with him the last time they met, and was probably the reason for him being absent last week. Had stomach pains been the reason behind other absences as well? He hoped not; it had to be pretty bad to force him to conclude the sparring period and go home.

He didn't mention any of this. He wasn't sure how Chichi would react, and it would trouble Goten and he would mention it to Trunks. He didn't feel it was necessary for all the mess.

A few minutes later, Goten declared himself finished and excused himself from the table and ran into the living room. They heard the television turn on immediately. "Damn that Playstation," Chichi seethed. Gokou chuckled. Goten had better watch out – school was starting soon and the gift from Trunks would be destroyed without notice. Goten knew that and had been cramming every free second of his rapidly disappearing summer vacation into playing video games.

He helped himself to a few more servings of lunch then left the table while Chichi was hollering at Goten. Damned if he was going to clear the table if he didn't have to. He caught the time on the microwave. Might was well get going. He hoped Vejiita would be at their sparring territory this time. He was in the mood to fight.

Walking out the door, he yelled "Goodbye!" to his family, told Goten to be good, and took off.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Vejiita? Is that you?"

Well, he was here all right, but was he prepared to train? His back still facing him, Gokou wasn't sure if Vejiita noticed that he had arrived. That was unusual in itself; Vejiita was known to all the Z-Fighters for being alert and on guard. Then there was his attire.

The other Saiyajin slowly turned, first just glancing at him then turned all the way around. "Hey," he said.

Gokou blinked at the greeting, then chose to disregard it. "Do you still want to train today?" he asked, almost reluctantly.

"Yeah, of course. Why the hell else would I be here?" From the distance the two were standing from each other, Gokou couldn't be sure if the smile Vejiita wore was of amusement or a smirk at his idiocy.

He was dumbfounded. Wasn't it obvious? He shrugged. "Ah, well... You're not dressed for training..."

Vejiita glanced down. "Oh. Well, shut up, this is what I fucking felt like wearing today." He suddenly laughed. Gokou saw no reason for laughter; what was funny? "But," he continued, "if you don't want to, I don't care."

"Don't want to what?"

"Spar, dumbass." A bit of a chuckle distorted the end of his sentence. "You seem all uncertain and shit." He brushed some dust off his leg and glanced at Gokou.

Gokou shook his head, beginning to become confused. "No, I was just asking if you wanted to spar this week. Because you haven't for the last two weeks."

Vejiita closed the distance between them. He frowned. "Oh well," he snapped irritably. "I'm here now, what's the problem? Let's do it!"

Gokou was silent. What the hell? he thought, bewildered. He was glad Vejiita was here, but what was going on? He wasn't dressed to train, and didn't seem to think that was a problem. And he had successfully turned the situation around to make it seem like it was Gokou's fault for delaying any action. "Vejiita, you feeling okay? Everyone's been saying you've been acting strange...." He regretted his choice of words as soon as he said them. Vejiita had never given a damn about what "everyone" has had to say.

"Fuck everyone."

He was right.

"I've been acting myself! That's all!"

What?

"You heard me. You people piss me off. None of you can mind your own business."

I can see that. You're shouting.

"Maybe thing's have been shitty lately."

Really? With Bulma? What else? What's been going on?

"I'm sick of it. I feel like I'm being suffocated--"

Vejiita cut himself off abruptly. He growled to himself and looked away.

"Vejiita?" Gokou finally allowed himself to speak out loud. Vejiita wasn't as impulsive as he had been when they first met, but there was never any reason to corner him or provoke him.



Chester let out a defeated sigh and relaxed his shoulders. He could be so dumb sometimes. Why did he say all that crap? And to Kakarotto? It wasn't his business and he certainly didn't really care.

'Vejiita,' he had said. 'Are you feeling okay?'

That was caring. But then he brought up the "everyone." Chester had nothing against Kakarotto's pals. They didn't like him because Mont tried to kill them all, but Chester was willing to put that behind him! Why couldn't the let go?

Then he had to ask himself if he really did feel suffocated here. No, not really. Montgomery might, just a little. Rob and Rip didn't really care. The two have been behaving very well lately – in fact, neither had shown themselves for over six years.

"Vejiita?"

That name again.

Chester shook his head. That's right, you have a role to execute. Fucking relax.

But, it was hard. Mont was being incredibly bothersome, making a ruckus. He couldn't do anything physically – Chester could suppress him just as easily as they could suppress Vejiita – he was just being a nuisance.

He took a deep breath and faced Kakarotto. Would he understand? He considered telling Kakarotto exactly what he had told Craig....

"Kakarotto.." he started calmly. "I don't know. I've just been kinda tired lately."

Kakarotto was silent. The intense attention that was being given to him was nice and unnerving at the same time. He was not used to being paid actual attention. When he was a kid, well, he was a kid, no one listens to kids. Here on Earth, he was ignored because he had proved he could not be trusted. And no one liked him anyway. Damn you, Mont.

"Just tired?" Kakarotto finally said. Chester shrugged.

"No."

After another minute, because Kakarotto wanted to give him time to say whatever he wished to say, he presumed, he said, "Tell me what else?"

Chester sighed and looked away. This was too serious. In the past, whatever was bothering him would be snuffed out by... anything. Craig got him to go on a trip and fuck a girl. And countless times he had drowned himself in alcohol and the drugs the other kids he grew up with made. Tell someone about your problems? That was just an indirect way of asking for shit.

"Nahh..." he murmured, answering the other Saiyajin's question.

Kakarotto took a bold leap. "Vejiita, you said you had stomach pains a while back."

Chester remembered. "I did."

"Are you feeling better?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine. It comes and goes, find something else to worry about."

He nodded slowly. But Chester could tell that he was not going to find something else to worry about.

"So did you still want to spar?" Chester suggested. He didn't really want to. He didn't think he was much of a fighter – he only purged when he was told and he hated doing it as much as Vejiita. He was a slacker like Craig; the only difference between them that he had power. But he was willing to make a fool of himself just get get Kakarotto's mind off of him.

His eyes brightened. Chester smiled to himself. He was great at distractions.

They fought for two hours. They could have gone longer, Chester thought certainly, but his sparring partner seemed to want to take it easy on him. Chester would have said, Hey, don't bother. I don't suck half as bad as I thought! Mont sure beefed me up!

They sat down. Or, Kakarotto did. Chester forced himself to stay standing up. Montgomery, who took control of social issues most of the time, did not sit with anyone. Again, Chester thought to himself, What a prick! Because of Montgomery, Chester had no friends and couldn't sit with the only guy who seemed to like him. Chester liked to sit.

He suddenly stopped his train of thought. He mentally berated himself, Why the fuck are you beating yourself up about this? These people aren't stupid. They should know the difference between us by now. We're nothing alike, Vejiita, Mont and I. I am nothing like them.

He decided that Vejiita could fend for himself now. He decided that he would be himself -- he would be Chester.

Chester sat down.



Gokou didn't say anything to Vejiita when he sat down next to him, as if he had done so every time they had concluded a sparring session. All throughout their practice fight, he wondered about the other Saiyajin. He had been laughing at odd points of their conversation at first, then lost his temper, asked to start fighting, and now was sitting next to him, presently in a companionable silence. He decided to take advantage of his behavior.

"Why didn't you wear your usual training clothes?" he said.

Vejiita had been picking at the worn-out threads of his shoelaces. The shoes were Doc Martens, old ones, with plenty of scuffs and chunks taken out of the sole. They looked very comfortable, a far cry from the white boots Vejiita usually donned. "Ah, I don't now. I stopped wearing that armor crap a long time ago, ya know? And this shirt isn't that different from training clothes... Except, that it rips easier and stinks more when it gets sweaty." He wrinkled his nose. "Shit, and I was getting kinda attached to it, too." He laughed.

Gokou nodded and smiled. He supposed it made sense. He wore his training clothes all the time. He just thought of Vejiita stricter than that. "Do you think you'll come next week?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He continued, "Don't know how it slipped my mind before. Feeling sick doesn't usually bother me. So, sorry about that, I guess."

"You're sorry?" he said without thinking. Vejiita gave him a dirty look.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" he said lowly. Gokou quickly changed the subject. At least Vejiita didn't seem angry that he had isolated his apology; just annoyed.

"Aah... The kids say you and Bulma are having a bit of trouble." Knowing how defensive Vejiita would be now, he tried to bring up the topic as levelly as possible. But Vejiita just smirked. A hate-less smirk.

"Yeah? And?"

It took him a moment to put his concern into words. "Well, how's it going?"

Vejiita shrugged. "It's goin' blah," he told him.

Gokou was at a loss as to how he was supposed to get around that answer. Before he figured anything out, however, Vejiita spoke up.

"Kakarotto, you can say whatever the hell you want to say to me, you know. I ain't gonna bite your head off."

Gokou started to say something, but faltered.

"I mean it." Vejiita stood up. "It's getting late. I'm gonna go home. I guess." He stretched and yawned. "Next Wednesday, then?"

"Uh, yeah. That's right."



"Vejiita?"

"Yeah..."

"Hey."

"Who is this?"

"Go.. ah, Kakarotto."

Pause.

"Hello?"

"I'm here. Why are you calling?" He paused again. "I missed it last week, again, didn't I?" Remorse wobbled at the end of the question.

The Saiyajin on the other line of the telephone let his confusion be heard. "No.. Vejiita, you were there."

He caught himself. "Oh, of course. Slipped my mind. I remember now."

"Are you okay?" He felt as though he had said that phrase too many times.

"Uh huh. Why are you calling?"

"Right!" he exclaimed, " Yeah, I was thinking since last time we met, if you wanted to spar more times a week!"

More times? Vejiita thought doubtfully.

"So how about it?"

"Why?"

Gokou was not discouraged by the less than enthusiastic answer. The skepticism and suspicion was expected. "Why not? Wouldn't you like to train with some besides yourself all the time?"

What he doesn't know is that I spend more of my time sleeping. "Sure, I guess." As an afterthought: "I'll be there. When?"

"How about Wednesdays, still, and Saturdays? Same time, at one." Vejiita agreed and hung up. Today was Friday. He didn't mind at all that they would spar more times a week. That was okay. He just didn't want to set anyone up for more disappointments; could he trust himself to be on time? And what about these characters mentioned in the letter? Did they ever follow his plans?

"Who was on the phone, Dad?" Vejiita hadn't noticed Trunks come into the room behind him. He answered, Kakarotto, and said nothing more.



Chester appeared agan before dinner that night. Trunks' question had caught his interested for some reason. Maybe it was because Trunks was the closest person he could relate to, even though Trunks was a few years younger.

He sat in the empty seat at the table, across from Trunks' mother. He had to give Vejiita credit for hooking up with her – Montgomery had, predictably, been no help at all and generally discouraged any relationship Vejiita was trying to scrounge up with the Earth lady. But, after the shit with Buu, as Chester thought of it, Vejiita stopped taking almost any interest in his family. He got along with the kids okay, pretty much the same as before, but everybody had gotten their hopes up that he'd be nicer after dying... a second time.

But with Bulma, Vejiita had made it clear that things were over. It was unofficial, in some ways. He still lived at Capsule Corp, in the lonely room he had inhabited when she was ill, and took care of the kids, respectively. But they were loose friends at the most.

Chester was a bit pissed at that. She was a hottie and for once gave Vejiita credit for doing something decent by himself. Chester wasn't into commitment. Besides her good looks, Bulma was hardly his kind of woman. She's too smart, he thought. But siince he was still allowed to live with her, he consoled himself with stolen glimpses. He smirked to himself. She had no idea.

He said, "I'm training with Kakarotto twice a week now," in a gruff voice, which was supposedly characteristic of Vejiita.

"Is that what you were talking to him on the phone about?" spoke up Trunks.

"Yep," he replied, grinning.

Bulma raised an eyebrow and took a small bite of food. "Are you sure you can remember to go twice?" Chester smirked a toothy smirk at her. She hadn't taken the break up as easily and Vejiita and the rest had. After all, she wasn't the one blacking out all the time. She couldn't understand his reasons. "Chichi called and she mentioned that you haven't been going all the time."

Chester shrugged. "That's none of your business. It's not like I have to go, anyway. It's optional."

"It's rude."

"Bite me."

She didn't reply to that. Chester felt like laughing. She took everything so seriously! The girls he had grown up with would have bitten him, good and hard! He grinned and concentrated on his meal. A good meal. Prepared from a box and straight from the microwave, it was Chester's kind of dinner. Even though he didn't think himself as 'Saiyajin', he did have to keep up with Mont and Vejiita's monstrous appetites. He would make sure there would be enough for leftovers. He loved midnight snacking.

Bulma, short-tempered and unhinged, excused herself from the table, saying she had a meeting at work to attend.

"In the middle of the night?" Chester said.

"It's the evening, Vejiita. It's not that strange for me to have evening meetings. You'd know that if you ever came downstairs."

"Hey! I'm here now," he objected.

Bulma shook her head in exasperation. "Just watch the kids." She left.

Chester did just that. For ten minutes, he leaned back in his chair and watched as Trunks got out a carton of ice cream, their plates of instant-pasta left untouched on the counter, and told Bra that she couldn't have any ice cream. The little girl screamed and hollered and called her brother a jerk until she turned to her father.

"Trunks, give you sister some ice cream."

"Do you want any?"

"No." He was still working on supper.

By the time the kids had eaten quite a few bowls of ice cream, Chester told them to do whatever they wanted. He didn't want anyting to do with a couple hyper-active kids. "It's not like you have to do anything tomorrow. Just don't set anything on fire, okay? I don't want your mom yelling at me." He winked. Trunks didn't know why his father had been acting shifty lately, but as long as he was in a good mood, he couldn't care less. "Bring your sister," he bellowed as Trunks dashed out of the kitchen.



Vejiita turned up on his doorstep the next morning. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and his hair was ruffled more than usual – he didn't look like he had gotten much sleep last night. He let himself in without saying a word to Gokou, and sat down at the table, holding his head up on the heals of his hands.

"Vejiita?" Gokou ventured after a moment. He thanked Christ that neither Chichi nor Goten were here this morning; they had left early to do school shopping, Chichi wanting to get ample supplies before the Back To School Sale rush. She would have liked to have Vejiita here as much as Goten enjoyed shopping.

He finally looked at Gokou. He gave him a crooked smile and chuckled sadly. "I am so fucking burnt," he told him.

"What happened to you?" he asked, slightly concerned. "You're not acting yourself." Vejiita seemed okay – he was speaking coherently and didn't seem to be too upset – but what did he mean by "burnt"?

But Vejiita just shook his head in reply. He didn't come here for counseling. Kakarotto was just the only guy who got along with him.

Chester had gotten a letter that evening after sentencing the kids to a night of fun. It had said simply:

Hey you bastard. I'm back. Get your ass over here.

He knew who it was immediately. Without a word of departure for the kids (he didn't know where the hell they were anyway) the blasted off into the cool autumn sky in search of the kinky ki-signature that belonged to the one and only Craig.

He had gotten himself – through sources Chester had no desire to learn of – a run-down apartment in the projects of a New England city. He let himself in through the fire-escape window, and he and Craig had celebrated their reunion with spliffs and speed. Craig, his speech slurred and barely intelligible, had told Chester of his quest to Earth. He had been in some sort of jail administrated by Freeza's business, and only two years ago had the prison received word that Freeza was dead and gone – as with jail funding. With no one to punish them or to pay their debts, the wardens let the prisoners go. It was a stupid act, by any standards, letting criminals and hard-core drug addicts out into space, but they couldn't keep them locked up any more.

Besides, how many thugs knew how to operate a space ship?

One did, and he found his only friend who had enough sense to keep away from bad people and take refuge on a planet that had not yet taken part in the vicious ways of outer space.

"And here I fucking am," he concluded, falling out the window onto the fire escape. He and Chester laughed.

Chester had woken up at the break of dawn, groggy and disoriented. He shoved Craig's limp body off his, and stumbled home. Where he received the bawling out of a lifetime. Where the hell were you? You can't just leave two children at home in the middle of the night! They set the living room on fire, Vejiita! Trunks can't take care of a child, you're lucky Bra isn't lost or kidnapped or dead or anything!

Chester, too sick to defend himself (he was guilty anyway) simply turned heel and headed off in the direction of Kakarotto's house. The other Saiyajin would be much less likely to get him in trouble.

"I'm okay," he murmured, his eyes elsewhere. "And I am so acting myself. You're mistaken."

His chin slipped from his hands and he nearly smashed his head against the table. He recovered from his brush with death and said out of the blue, "I hope I'm still welcome there."

"Where?"

"Capsule."

"Capsule Corp?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Damn..."

"Why?" asked Gokou. "What happened?"

Again he shook his head. "Screwed up, I guess. Don't worry, she'll let me back in." Chester was certain of himself.

Gokou grabbed the unsteady Saiyajin's chin and forced him to look at him. Burnt. Not lack of sleep. "Vejiita, what did you do last night?"

"Met up with an old friend."

"An old friend?"

"Yeh." Vejiita looked thoughtful for a moment, before wrenching his head from Gokou's grip. "I wonder if he'd like you. You're kinda.. nice..."

Nice? Gokou thought. This was so bizarre. First Vejiita coming here early in the morning. He had obviously gotten kicked out by Bulma after a rough night – easy to decipher by his appearence. And now, paying him a compliment? And so flippantly, at that. What kind of 'nice' did he mean? Vejiita was both blunt and tightlipped, making a conversation with him frustrating at the least.

But, Gokou didn't even get a chance to pry more information from the difficult Saiyajin. Right then, Vejiita passed out on his dining room table.