Between setting up tables, collecting garbage, minor food prep when needed, or any other task that came with keeping the dinner moving without a hitch, Helga and Phoebe had been on their feet the minute they passed through the threshold. The blonde one especially found the day fruitful considering how all the work presented itself as a chance to constructively exorcise the torrent of rage which had been coursing through her body since this morning. Her reliability and work ethic were far from lost on the organizers who commended her at every chance they could.
Once the last of their guests had been served, the volunteers were given a chance to break bread amongst each other in a table at the back or with the homeless if they so desired. Kyo and Reba took the later of the two options, thus giving their daughter and her friend some privacy and a chance for the blonde girl to officially regale Phoebe with a full and unedited retelling of the events from that morning.
"…so then Bob finally decides to start playing 'Papa Bear' after realizing that the same Arnold who pulled his business out of history's dung heap also had an indirect hand in every instance the universe ever scrambled his eggs." Helga concluded. "And when he had the nerve to call him my boyfriend, it was just the final straw."
"But Arnold is your boyfriend." Phoebe said. "I would assume your father acknowledging this particular milestone would-"
"On the contrary. Hearing it come from Bob's mouth made my skin crawl." Helga replied. "As much as I love Arnold and wouldn't trade him for the galaxy, I'm starting to realize the connection between me putting him on the pedestal I did and what an unforgivably heinous track record Bob has on the whole 'being a dad' thing..."
Phoebe's eyes widened for a moment before she winced. As much as she tried to provide Helga support (or at least a shoulder to cry on) when it came to the dumpster fire that was her home life, the fact remained that they had just spent the entire day serving food to a community center teeming with members of the city's less fortunate. Nonetheless, Helga continued.
"…and the real cherry on top is that he thinks waving his beefy digit around like some vengeful god on high is going to make me suddenly see the light and venerate him as this immovable pillar of fatherhood. So, in the end I flipped the table over in hopes that maybe, just maybe, being denied the chance to stuff himself silly would provide him some time to reflect on the utter hell he has put me through since-"
"Helga!" Phoebe interjected firmly with a pound on the table. "You're mad. You have more than every right to be. But please, please be mindful that we are tables away from people who are having their first hot meal in weeks at least…(she sighs before continuing much calmly but still adamantly enough to keep making her point)… The reason we come here, or are supposed to come here is in the name of perspective for our fellow man, regardless of whether or not we subscribe to any belief in a higher power; doing our part to make sure all take from the horn of plenty."
Deep down, Helga knew her friend was right (and even deeper down knew Arnold would have probably said something borderline verbatim had he been the one sitting next to her). And while Phoebe's earnestness on the matter made her tempestuousness ebb, it still didn't fully extinguish her feelings on the matter.
"I've. Tried. Phoebe." She said pleadingly. "But when your 'horn of plenty' is Bob breaking wind after eating his weight in gas station burritos while Miriam goes through nasty withdrawals as ceiling tiles fall about you… things become different; and perspective is just another luxury you can't exactly afford. So, I feel pretty comfortable in saying that nothing short of divine intervention can convince me that there is a worse father figure than Big Bob."
(Across the room)
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, volunteers and guests. My name is Rabbi Elliot Goldman of Temple Beth O'r. With me is Deacon Sawa Olchovy of the St. Seraphim Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Church."
"And no, this isn't the start of an elaborate joke." Deacon Sawa interjected before a light laughter fills the area. "In addition to my position in the church, I am also the music teacher/tutor at Puget Sound Junior High one town over in Tono, and asked Rabbi Goldman if I could add some music to tonight's dinner. Accompanying me tonight is an extraordinarily talented and soulful young man with an ear for jazz and gift for the oboe. So please give a warm welcome to my protégé and friend, Wolfgang Toran."
The hall filled with the sound of applause as the crowd watched the young man enter, ignorant to the sound of two girls in the table in the back spitting out their drinks in shock.
