Fishy Felonies

What's the deal with all the aloe vera?

I imagined dressing up in period costumes would be some sort of guilty pleasure you'd want to hide from the general public, but apparently Tarmac was fine with showing up in family restaurants at their peak hours. Without offering any explanation, after half an hour on the subway, she had dragged us, her arms still around our necks, into Chuck e. cheese and sat us at a table.

"This... this isn't Shedd aquarium." Constantine had finally decide to state the obvious.

"Nice one, Sherlock," I gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. After seeing the slightly confused look on his face, I remembered all sarcasm was lost on him.

"It's past noon, I'm hungry," whined Tarmac.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Even though I didn't want to be here, my hand was already reaching for the menu.

"Anyway," she said ignoring my comment, "I've decided. You two make a dodgy pair."

"How are you in the position to call anyone dodgy?"

As soon as I had spoken, a waitress appeared at our table.

"Hi, I'm going to be your waitress today. Are you ready to order?"

Tarmac beamed at her, "I dare say so, why I'm certain there's a delectable selection available."

The waitress was visibly taken aback. She should be anyway, why would three teenagers choose to hang out at a kiddie restaurant?

"Well, there's lots of pizza."

"I did notice that twist on the Italian cuisine." Tarmac gestured to me, "Sister mine?"

"I uhh, like onions and green peppers." That came out kind of lame... and didn't really answer the question.

 I sighed, this is what happens when people expect me to make decisions without giving me time to figure out what I wanted.

Tarmac didn't give up. She focused her attentions of Constantine.

"Conny, dear?"

Constantine looked delighted to receive of a new nickname.

"Is there any way you could possibly put — "

"If you're going to say toffee, I will dunk you into that sea of plastic balls infested snotty nosed urinating toddlers they advertise as a ball pit, then force you under with that mop saturated in puke. Try me." I ended it with a giggle for the waitress's sake. Constantine looked confused. The waitress had gone pale. That giggle came out way more menacing than I planned...

"Anchovies?" His high pitched voice cracked and he glanced at the kids' play area.

"I'm sorry, we don't have that." The waitress tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, unknowingly revealing trickles of sweat along her hairline. She's literally been her for less than five minutes and we're already making her this nervous.

Seeing as we had both failed to order, Tarmac decided to take control. She peaked at the menu I was holding, and addressed the waitress.

"From consulting la carte du jour, I suppose ordering a large super combo would satisfy everyone's appetites."

The waitress scribbled it down, "Drinks?"

"A large pot of tea — jasmine, of course — should do."

"Ice tea?"

Tarmac blinked rapidly, " Iced tea?  Well," she stood up, " in that case, I will be starting with salad." She brought a little fan out from god knows where and walked towards the salad bar, fanning herself profusely.