Disclaimer: I still don't own The Weekenders. I also don't own The Miracle Bra. I believe Victoria's Secret does, or maybe that's Wonderbra; I'm not entirely sure what the distinction is. Once again, I don't know who does, but it sure isn't me!

"'Glamourpuss Pizza?'" Carver asked, "What do you suppose they're doing now." He looked at Tish a bit funny, and his jaw dropped. "Tish," he said, "is that a Miracle Bra? You know, flatter is in right now."

Tish looked imperious, and was about to say something when the usual waiter walked up. Or rather, toddled up. He was decked out in stiletto heels, a dress with a skirt so short it was probably illegal, a straight blonde wig, and a hot pink feather boa. And that was most definitely a Miracle Bra. He struck a pose, complete with sultry pout, and a series of flashes lit up our table. Eee. I don't like strobe lights. It was all I could do to not squeaky-scream.

We all stared speechless for a moment. Finally, Lor broke the silence: "Dude," she said seriously, "flatter is in right now."

"I like your shoes," Carver told him.

He gave us a movie-star smile. "Thanks!" he exclaimed. "I'm really liking this theme so far. I might keep it this way."

Awkward silence reigned once again.

"Um, could we get a large pepperoni pizza, no meat on my part?" Tish averred.

"Sure thing, duck," said the made-over pizza guy with a wink. He turned around with some difficulty and toddled back off.

"I wonder if I could get a job here," Carver said.

"Dude, you know you said that out loud, right?"

"What?! No I didn't! I didn't say anything!"

More of that awkward silence.

"So, speaking of jobs--" Tish began.

"We're not speaking of jobs! No one said anything about jobs!" Carver screeched.

"Right. Either way, I got one."

I looked up. "Really? Does your character have leukemia?"