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[Harry Baldman]

Facechewer looks at Frida, not having ordered anything, anticipating a response to Titus' question.

[WillowLuman]

"Ah, vell, it vould be poor form to get too specific, but like any enlisted person I can assure you I do votever is asked of me. Mostly small tasks. Of course, it gets more interestink ven there is combat."

[Harry Baldman]

"I bet it does. How are the lasers these days? I always enjoyed lasers the most. Something to be said about your fire going forward at the speed of light, isn't there? And with electrolasers, you get the nice kick to it as well."

[armach]

"I've always been partial to kinetic and ballistic weapons myself, it always leaves a nice mess."

[WillowLuman]

"Ve are ze Sternereich, of course. Our veapons are ze best in ze galaxy. Ve use votever is necessary to destroy ze enemy qvuickly unt completely. Zey issue us mostly vith lasers, for ze most part though. Ze power supplies are smaller than ammunition."

[armach]

"I could see how that would be advantageous for long voyages." He looks around for a bit. "I could use a drink, think they sell alcohol here?"

[WillowLuman]

"Here? Perhaps. But not intentionally, I sink. Ah, here comes our orders. How qvuick!"

The tripod mushroom alien returns, bearing a tray on a mass of cilia from its head. "^{YOUR MEAL.}"

The coffee looks fairly innocuous, as does the pastry (though it looks a bit odd, being completely smooth and not suggesting its contents). The pancakes, though, seem to be large slabs of some kind of solid lipid, like margarine, with a tiny circle of brownish fluffy cake on top, and some dark black syrupy stuff poured on it.

[armach]

"Uh, waiter, is this a fucking joke. It's supposed to be layers of the cake stuff with a small amount of butter on top." He tastes the syrup. "Shit, that's pretty good actually, but you could kill someone with this stuff." He tries some of the coffee.

[Harry Baldman]

"Ah, this I like. Must commend you on your excellent choice of dining establishment, ma'am!" Facechewer grins.

[armach]

'Laugh it up Facechewer, I hope you like coffee.' Titus thinks to himself.

[WillowLuman]

The syrup tastes like a mix of crispy bacon and sugar. The mushroom-looking alien's legs turn slightly purple "^{WHY? THIS WAY MAKES MORE SENSE. FATTY LIPIDS FOR FLAVORFUL DENSE ENERGY, CARBOHYDRATE FOR GARNISH}"

[armach]

"But that's not how they are made on earth, besides if a normal human ate this they probably die!" He slams his right hand on the part of the table near Facechewer. His right hand also happened to be holding the cup of coffee, spilling its contents all over Facechewer. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" Titus lifts Facechewer from his seat and pushes him away from the table. "You should get that cleaned out before it sets in, quickly, you don't want to keep Miss Frida waiting. Again sorry." Titus returns to the table and addresses Frida. "Sometimes I get too passionate about getting earth culture right. So what were we talking about?"    

[Harry Baldman]

"Ah yes, will be right back."

And with that, Facechewer pops on out of the restaurant before much of a protest can be made and sees if he can get to the fridge to perhaps get some cash for laundry purposes, because it was indeed an honest concern that the coffee stain might linger for quite a while.

[WillowLuman]

"Ah, not to vorry, I can pay for it. It should be trivial, especially vith zis synth coffee."

[Harry Baldman]

"Oh no, I could never ask for a thing like that, ma'am. I barely even know you! Really, it'll be just a minute."

Regardless of further objections, Facechewer makes himself scarce and gets to the fridge post-haste.