Can I take you to dinner? Watty's edition

'Human broad!'

Silence.

"...... I was late on the timing- wasn't I?"

The large figure lowered the twin pistols, almost disappointed as W.D nodded. The figure scoffed, gaze to the side as he pocketed the weaponry. "God fuckin' damn it- this is why I didn't wanna go change! Yer makin' me miss out!" The figure groaned, entering the cleared out restaurant. He eyed the blown apart mess of hotcakes, grumbling obscenities under his breath. "Where's Grillby?" He finally asked, W.D inclining his head towards the pass. The figure grinned most deviously, steps slow and thundering towards the counter, lifting a finger to gently ring the bell that crushed under his touch, the bell giving out a broken shriek. The figure stared down at the metal crater almost guiltily. "Ah, shit-!"

The figure clicked his tongue under his breath, a hissing sound before reaching into his breast-pocket, fumbling about until he gave a small 'ah' of satisfaction. He plucked out a large cigar before chomping down on it, using his index finger that glowed a violent shade of red, a flame of the same color flickering from his fingertip, lighting the cigar. He took a drag before exhaling, a low growl in his throat as he smirked. "Well there's always the old fashioned way-" He mused before raising his head towards the kitchen, grin as wide as knives are sharp. "Eyyy Grillby!!" He bellowed jovially, causing an uncharacteristic little 'meep!' from the kitchen. Before you could turn- Grillby was yanked out of the kitchen flailing in the grasp of translucent red. Your head whipped around as he was dragged past with a yelp, scurrying to the edge of the door-frame. You clutched it, terrified as Grillby was slammed gut-first onto the counter with a cry. You then looked past him. Your felt your face visibly plummet as far as your stomach as a hulking figure of two hundred pounds or more stood looming over the lean flame that was beginning to look like a matchstick. If his features didn't betray his body type, you would've mistaken the guy as a walking marshmallow. But no, fate decided a second fedora-donned skeleton to stroll on through like he owned the joint.

He had a gruff, rugged appeal to him despite his gentlemanly attire, large crack in his skull and larger canines in his grin that widened, glinting gold as fear washed over a shaken Grillby. His very appearance screamed 'criminal'. The red grip held Grillby trapped as the figure sighed contently, straightening his jacket in a fluid snap. "Well, I'd say it's nice to see ya- but you're a little behind--" "I've just worked out--" He hacked raspily, raising his head only for the force to shove him down whilst the figure inspected his ring. "Naw, you didn't work out shit." The figure spoke in lazy bite, smiling in what one could call sadism. His sockets roamed the restaurant, flicking over it. "He gave you the money to set this up-" He jutted a bony thumb towards W.D who sat down before bringing it to himself. "You give me the money to run this shit show..." His eyes fell to you. He looked almost confused by your existence before fixing you a glare, scoffing as turning to Grillby. "Who's the human broad?*" Grillby only turned his cheek. "My staff that you paid for." "Don't get smart with me-!" The figure hushed. He wouldn't take Grillby's undermining, not in front of you at least. "I expect my rent like everyone else does. And lord knows I love my rent." He drawled, barking out a laugh that you might've found attractive coming from someone less violent and far-less arrogant.

"Well-I-uh..." Grillby began nervously, unusual for the normally laid-back persona of the fire demon.  "You see... Our stock was backed up cause one of our trucks-" "Rent."  The skeleton growled lethally, Grillby sighed from his place on the counter, turning towards you the best he could, a fifteen degree turn with his head stuck to the counter. "Would you be a doll and grab the crate from the bottom shelf of the pantry? Attagirl." Taking this as a welcome means of escape from the staring of the skeleton, you nodded, dashing away. Grillby took note of look the skeleton wore above him, watching as he shook his head with a smirk. "Yer little lady is cute for a human at least, I'll give her that much." "After humans now, are we Sans?" Sans frowned, skull whirling to W.D, sitting amused. Sans grumbled. "I just said she was cute is all- ain't no harm!" "Just as well, I can't stand you hoarding your pets in my home." W.D snipped, Sans rolling his sockets as Grillby coughed awkwardly, a reminder he was still there. The figure glared, sending Grillby a withering look. "Stay put." Grillby froze, chuckling nervously as the skeleton retreated. "A-Alrighty then!" He squeaked, proceeding to count his blessings as Sans stalked in after you. It had him curious, how one of your kind could be mingling with creatures perceived as dirt by society. It had him curious why you were even working here, much rather, why he was even investing his time in this. The kitchen was deserted and clean for the most part- Grillby often purposely made messes to keep you busy. His shoes clacked against the checker-board tiles in echo as he glanced around the space. That was when he heard muttering from the pantry.