Michael stepped very nonchalantly into the diner, slipping into a booth. "Well look who we have here," Debbie said, now standing in before Michael.
"Morning, Mom"
"Don't give me that," Debbie said. "Sending Ben to eat all alone this morning."
"Ben and I don't have to spend every waking moment together," Michael said.
"No, you'd rather spend your waking moments with Brian."
"What are you talking about?" Michael said. Debbie raised her hand and cracked him in the back of the head. "Oww! What the hell was that for?"
"Don't fucking lie to me," Debbie said. "Ben already told me that you were with Brian."
"Brian is my best friend. That hasn't changed. It isn't going to."
"And what crisis is he going through today? Hang nail? Boredom?"
"No..." Michael said rather matter of factly. "I promised Brian that I would see him this morning."
"Bullshit, Michael."
"It is not bullshit!" he said. "Besides... I don't... need a reason to visit Brian."
Debbie shook her head. "He's gonna drive a fucking wedge between you and Ben..."
"Jesus, Ma," Michael said. "It's not Brian's fault he got sick!"
Debbie suddenly grew silent as Michael brought his hand up to his head, realizing his error in telling Debbie. "Brian's sick?" Debbie said slowly.
"No," Michael said quickly. "No, it's really nothing... and besides, he's fine now. Much better."
"Order's up, Deb!" they heard from the back of the diner.
"What do you want to eat?" Debbie asked, completely changing the subject. Michael's shoulders fell, feeling horrible about squealing about Brian. "I know," Debbie continued. "You just wait right here and I'll bring you something good."
He had survived Debbie. Michael managed to make it through breakfast, avoiding the topic of Brian... well trying to at least, somewhat successfully. He had opened up the store and began to unpack the boxes of the new arrivals of comic books and memorabilia.
Michael was in the back when the bell above the door jingled. "I'll be right with you!" Michael called.
"It's just me!" Justin responded, approaching the front counter, setting out a number of sketches. "I brought over some of the revised stuff."
Michael stepped back to the front of the store. "New sketches?" he said.
"Well I just fixed the old ones up a little," Justin said.
Michael leaned over the counter, taking one of the drawings into his hand. "This is good," Michael said. "Yeah... yeah this is great, this could work. But I was thinking... his alter ego.... maybe we should give it a different..." Michael paused. "I was thinking of reworking the villain giving him different abilities, a different purpose."
"You want different drawings." Justin said almost defeated.
"No," Michael said. "Oh... no. These are great. I like these a lot."
Justin sighed. "You know, Michael... if we keep this up, we're never going to get the next issue done. We get set on one thing and then you change it. The character is real. This 'Juice Pig'.... we can work with him. It's a good idea, all we have to do is run with it." Michael was looking over the pictures again. "Michael? We should run with it."
Michael nodded slowly. "You're right," he said. placing the papers down in front of them. "Yeah, you're right. This villain can really give Rage a run for his money, huh?" Justin smiled. "OK. I'll... I'll get started on an outline."
"I thought you were still in the hospital."
"I have too many things to do to just lay in a hospital bed for days on end," Brian said, brushing passed Cynthia, into his office. "I'm fine, no permanent scarring... but I will never touch shellfish again, for the rest of my life."
"I'll write that one down." Cynthia smiled as Brian's phone rang. "Don't work too hard," she said leaving the office.
Brian picked up the office phone. "Brian Kinney," he said. "....OK, they came back, so what are the results?... I'm feeling fine. What if I don't want to come in?... Can't you just tell me over the fucking phone?..." Brian was silent for a long moment. "Fine. Fine, I'm coming in. I'm on my way."