1) Happy Hour

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As the sun was setting on Queens, it felt as if nothing could ruin a perfect evening. You could hear the sound of children playing in the neighborhood parks, or the sound of cars in traffic as they rushed home after a hard day of work, or the sound of a dog barking at some random jogger as they rush past. You could say that it seemed like a peaceful place to live. A group of children, consisting of many age groups, ran through the streets like a herd of wildebeest stampeding through the plains. They soon come to a stop a block away from a corner restaurant. They huddle around each other to discuss the approach of what they are about to do, giggling as the discussion lengthens.

               From out of the huddle, a young teen, the oldest of group, stood up making her way toward the restaurant. She strode down the walkway with ease in her black high-top boots, black jeans that seemed to fit her enough to take long strides, and a white blouse with a black cardigan draped around it. Within seconds, she steps up to the vacant Maître D' stand. She stands in her position for a moment, reading a sign on the stand that reads "All guests must wait to be seated by Maître D'." She shrugs her shoulders chuckling at the statement, "I guess it's one of those 'seat yourself' joints." She motions her hands toward the rest of the group to come join her. They give out cheer, charging down the street in their excitement. One-by-one, they hastily take up seats in the exterior area that takes up most of the corner. The tables they sit at have not been cleaned yet, so there was still some leftover food from the previously seated guests. They dig right into anything that is available, some even competing for the most desirable supplement.

Their initiator has now walked in herself, but has instead started to venture deeper into the interior walls of the restaurant. She notices a finely dressed figure walking through the crowded venue, as the Maître D' made his way back to his post. She turns quickly to her companions and whistles for their attention. The snap of their heads and widened eyes had a sense of fear in some and excitement in the rest. She gives a nod and a twirling motion of her right index finger signaling the oncoming figure of authority. They start to put their plan into motion. Some children stashing as much food into small plastic bags they had on them, and the rest hiding behind one of the larger tables in the corner near the wall of the establishment, preparing to create a distraction. The leader now continues into the building, making her body language seem normal. As the Maître D' is within an arms-reach of her, she stops him in his tracks. "Excuse me, do you work here" she questions with a concerned voice. Taken by surprise, he responds with yes, asking how he could help her. "Well, there's a bunch of kids outside just causing a raucous and eating off leftover plates" she replied. The gentleman turned his head toward the front, and walked quickly to the door leaving the young teen behind. She didn't follow, and with a smirk, she continued into the crowd.

The Maître D made his way outside, noticing a small bunch of children stashing food into bags and eating little pieces as they worked to fill them. "Hey!" he shouted in their direction, their heads rotating back almost instantaneously. Now stepping in the direction of the group, he ordered the children to drop the food and leave. One boy stood up quickly, his mouth covered in alfredo sauce as he stood timidly. "Ok, ok", he stuttered, "we'll leave sir, no need to get worked up." The boy wiped his face and with a quick heavy breath, he shouted "Let's go guys!" And from behind the large table next to them, the other group of children sprang out cheering, causing other guests and staff to turn their heads toward the commotion.

People on the streets heard the noise as well, some even stopping to see what was happening. One young man stopped, stared at the restaurant, and turned toward the direction of a nearby alley. He ran quickly into the alley unbuttoning his shirt as went along, revealing a black spider on his chest. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a red mask and proceeded to put it on. Soon enough he had stripped his clothes down to the red and blue costume that he wore underneath them. Webbing his clothes to the side of a wall, he leaped into the air and spun a web toward the ledge of the nearest building. Now in full costume, Spider-Man swung swiftly into the streets back toward the place the youthful cheering had originated.

The children had now created complete chaos in the restaurant. They ran around the place dodging the staff and snatching handfuls of food off the plates of other diners. Some of the guest tried to help the staff corral the rowdy children, hoping to restore order back to the venue.

As the madness continued, one figure strolled along the sides keeping her eyes looking forward. The leader kept a straight face as she made her way to a tray in the corner near the kitchen door. She smiled in delight at the sight that was laid out in front of her. The tray was filled with small bowls of ice cream sundaes, each bowl big enough for each child to get a good helping. Her mouth watered in salivation, licking her lips with anticipation. She took one brief look behind her to make sure no one was noticing, and turned back to the sweet prize she had found. She lifted the tray, and made fast for the kitchen door.

As she backed into the kitchen, a busboy noticed her, calling out and walking towards her. He was soon stopped by a young girl pushing a cart from right to left. The cart had dirty dishes on board along with a young boy riding on top, chugging down a glass of soda as he sped past. He gave out a large burp before addressing the young busboy that gave them a annoyed face. "What", the boy snarked, "its Happy Hour, isn't it?" Taking the opportunity, the thieving teen then fled into the kitchen, walking briskly to not disturb the cooks and lose control of the tray she was carrying. As she walked, some cooks looked up, confused about who she was. Her clothes seemed decent enough to think that she was a waitress in training, so they ignored her after the thought. She took one last look behind her as she approached the back door, and with the coast clear, she exited the building to the right.

One of the wild children had noticed her depart, and with a loud call that mimicked a howling wolf, the wild bunch of delinquents scurried out of the restaurant like fleeing rats. They split into groups as they went in opposing directions down the intersecting streets. The sound of giggling filling the warm evening air.


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A/N: Hello, I'm trying this type of story because I've read so many Peter/Michelle stories here, and would like to share what I would do. I kinda have 2 chapters set, just trying to see where the story will go from there. Michelle will enter the story in maybe a few chapters.

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