Disclaimer: I do not own Good Omens or the Ritz. I do own the original characters (that's right, I'm stuck with the freaky people).
Chapter 2: You got served.
Aziraphale and Crowley sit in silence. They use this time as an opportunity to study the dining area. Same white tablecloths, same green wallpaper, same blue plush carpet, and same fat, rich guy in the corner surrounded by different young ladies everyday…
After about three minutes, the not-so-young-waitress comes bounding up the aisle. She had her bleached hair in a ponytail, too much make-up on her face, a red shirt that said "Ritz" in rhinestones, and (here's the worst part) tight, black short-shorts. Both men-shaped creatures are afraid to look directlyat her for fear of losing their appetite. "Hi-my-name-is-April." She says in a strange accent. Crowley figures it is supposed to be Spanish, while Aziraphale thinks it is more French. Either way, she failed horribly at it. "May I start you out with some drinks?"
"Ah, yes. We will have a bottle of Amontillado." Chirps Aziraphale.
The girl gives him a wide-eyed stare. Then she glances around the room and shuffles a little. "Er…we um…we only serve Coca-Cola products here so…"
"Amontillado issss a wine." Seethes Crowley, speaking each syllable slowly.
"Oh yes, we have wine. Would you like a Merlot?"
"No, my dear, we want an amontillado." Says the angel, also slowing his speech.
"Well…we..."
"You don't have it anymore do you?" Snarls Crowley.
"No, sir." Whispers Hi-my-name-is-April as she inches away. Crowley starts rising from his seat. However, Aziraphale catches his shirt sleeve and yanks him back down before he can make a scene.
"A glass of Merlot will be fine." Says Aziraphale, trying his absolute hardest to seem cheerful. With that, Hi-my-name-is-April walks away as fast as she could without breaking into a run.
The angel notices that Crowley was still smoldering in his seat. He leans over and pats his arm. "Let's hope they can still cook, right old chap?" He pipes. Crowley lets out a grunt and picks up the menu. Aziraphale does the same (but with less grunting). At least the choices have not changed. Both take this as a good omen.
While the supernatural beings were making their selections in their heads, Hi-my-name-is-April comes waltzing up the aisle with the same happy-go-lucky expression on her face that she had before the met the two main characters. She gently places a bottle and four glasses on the table. She fills two of them with the freezing water from her pitcher. When she is finished, she looks up and asks, "May I take your order?"
"Chicken cordon bleu for me, please." Answers Aziraphale.
"Would you like fries with that?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Oops. That was my old job. Anyways, what about you?"
"Oxtail soup." States the demon.
"Please pull up to the second win…doh I mean…Thank you, your order will be ready shortly." Hi-my-name-is-April says with a blush. She starts to walk off, then turns around, picks up the menus, and then leaves again.
Sure enough, the food arrives shortly. The tray is being carried by a large, but plain looking How-may-I-be-of-service?-Stanley. Aziraphale and Crowley toast each other as he places the plates in front of them. Yet shortly after How-may-I-be-of-service?-Stanley walked off, Crowley screams and hurls the table as far as he can (which is about four feet…).
While Crowley races for the kitchen door, Aziraphale looks around at the astonished faces of the other diners. "Er…sorry about that…I'll just, uh, yea…" Stutters the angel as he slowly and awkwardly heads in the same direction as his frienemy.
Laying on the carpet where they two protagonists were a few seconds ago, is broken glass, silverware, a mixture of water, wine, and broth, chicken that has been dyed blue, and an ox tail with the fur still on it.
End of chapter 2