There was once a well-trained dog onboard the Baratie owned by a doctor who wanted his daughter to eat on a restaurant in the sea. It liked to jump to shake peoples' hands, play dead, and roll over but it took a twenty five pound dumbbell to restrain it.
Nail was held by something heavy while he worked smelling peoples' fears. Every time someone thought they would make a getaway without paying they were surprised by an angry young man who could bite their skin without fear of bad taste. Nail was now growling at a shaven bald man with black goggles covering his eyes.
" How much beli did you bring to this table?" Pierce the young chef asked the man trembling at the boy who couldn't act like anything other than an animal.
" I-I…please don't let him bite me! I was going to pay back the money I owed I swear."
" If you're a lying bastard you only have one choice: Nail can inflict throbbing pain into that cowering skull of yours. If you really intend to pay us back clean and gather tips until you've accumulated enough to reach your meal cost."
" I-I like that deal better than the first one," he whimpered.
" I would rather hear you sing before giving you an amazing deal such as this one, but the head chef says the more people who do bad things have to pay for it the more this restaurant keeps its " No Shit Allowed" policy."
Nail was begging to admire the way Pierce could make people see fear just from telling them things. There was a problem though where every time he confronted a thief he never talked or looked at Nail even though he helped sniff out the thief.
Nail soon had to go to the bathroom. When he was a pet for an underground ring better he couldn't go without being abused so he would utilize knowledge that anyone could attack him at any moment. All it took to go to the bathroom and be freed from his chains was raising his hand. After he did the head chef removed his restraints and led him to the bathroom.
The chef didn't need to follow Nail inside because he didn't want to see what business he accomplished in there. His only concern was every time Nail went in there he heard scratching noises on the wall.
When Nail walked out he clipped the dumbbell back on him. It used to be much harder to clip the dumbbell leash on Nail because he's a fighter. He had claws and bite and would truly maul into someone if they didn't know how to tame him. Head chef Zeff wasn't afraid to show Nail he was a choreboy and he was a man with a ferocious heart.
" Waiter I ordered five minutes ago."
A man with a brown bowl cut hair, tan skin, gray jacket and brick brown eyes infuriated the chefs thinking his order mattered the most. He might even be part of some unruly crooks out to make other people miserable. All Pierce knew was there was a special beverage he knew this man deserved: white wine spliced with an anima's saliva.
The mans attitude wasn't much better when he finally had his meal. It was spaghetti with fish shrimp casserole. Some would call it a cooking monstrosity except a fish restaurant in the middle of the sea knew how to make good meals from the fish they had, even if some of them wished Sanji delivered fish from the All Blue.
The good news was the other tables had better customers to serve; one table had girls so pretty they could even be models and were dressed in the clothes to mach. However, Pierce put his work on the Baratie before flirting.
Pierce ran into bad news when the man being a bad customer called him back to his table.
" You are bad at keeping track of my order. I asked for spicy eggplant sauce but no sauce with my spaghetti casserole. How do you expect a customer to tip you if you can't fulfill one order request."
" I don't get tips, I'm a chef here. You didn't ask for that sauce, your just a blowhorn who thinks he's being funny, and the casserole spaghetti tastes much better when its not spicy. I should know I cooked it."
" Oh. Where are my manners."
A sinister twinkle sparked in the mafia members' eyes before he executed a deplorable act even for a member of a mob.
" Have some!"
He threw the whole plate of what Pierce cooked in his face. Humiliated, his only relief was no one else found spaghetti casserole in a chef face funny except the mafia member. With one finger, he could use the power of his Devil Fruit to knock him out of the Baratie.
" What, nothing you want to say? The mob man held his hand on his ear listening to the grumbles Pierce made when he knew the Baratie's responsibility was to fight but not with the customers. " Well I do. I think that casserole was just heated with a flamethrower and nothing you'll ever make will taste good you stupid waite—"
The table rocketed off the ground and had pushed the mafia man towards the ceiling. Pierce was amazed that someone had the strength to lift that table or used an experiment that launched the table into the air. He soon found out that person was Nail who jumped into the air and took the table down off the ceiling.
The mob man was now in the table his face scarlet with anger. " Your all a bunch of insane lunatics who need a noose around your necks! Mark my words you all feel close to death when my boss and all my allies come to the Baratie and burn it into the ground!"
" He really is a blowhart who needs to chill out," a chef murmured to his fellow chef.
" Give him the rolling pin," the chef next to him said.
A chef of mighty bulk walked out of the kitchen with a rolling pin in one hand. He sneaked up to the mob member in his vehement state and knocked him on the head with it. There was no guarantee the smack of the rolling pin didn't kill him.
All the chefs knew was they couldn't keep him as a pet—they already had someone who filled in the void of that—so they would put him in a barrel that used to hold pickles and let him drift out to sea.
Nail and Pierce were in the Baratie's infirmary. A ship that had people constantly getting into fights without an infirmary was asinine so head chef Zeff seeked out a doctor for his chefs and choreboys. Nail and Pierce were all alone. Pierce had spaghetti with casserole chunks on his face and Nail hurt his hand strains after he made the table fly.
" You are without a doubt the dumbest boy I've ever known," Pierce said in a cold tone. " You could've been killed fighting an opponent you know nothing about."
Just then Nail sat up, walked to the sink and sprayed a napkin with it. With the napkin he wiped the casserole off Pierce's face just like another prisoner of Nail's wiped dried blood off his face.