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Luke's Diner, Thursday

"What I wanna know is how y'all even found my Nana's Facebook," Hardison said, glowering at the new placemats adorning every table. "An' also maybe how y'all had a time to go out an' get a picture of me printed an' professionally laminated."

The busboy was looking at one of the extra placemats and trying not to snicker. Openly. "I friended her back when she visited the island," the dishwasher volunteered. "We share gardening tips over Messenger."

"If you say so," Hardison said, taking a seat and putting his laptop directly over his younger self's face. "Now if y'all will excuse me, I gotta go rain digital hell on for awhile."

Today's Specials
VEAL scallopini
SPRING peas and BABY carrots
Gingerbread BABIES

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Enjoy the new, err, visual appeal?

He's vehemently gesturing at his computer.

Some~~meme~~thung had gotten the Merchant of Miracles feeling like he should get out a bit more, so, sure, why not go out for lunch today? He quails a little at the idea of spending money to do so, but it was networking, baby! It was getting his face oit there, so the folks in a small town like this would see his ugly mug and think, 'now there's a trustworthy fella I want to spend my hard earned moolah with.'

He probably had a long ways to go. Just like it seemed that he had a long way to get up on that stool. Listen, so he lacked a little in the stature department, but he'd get there, he'd get there...

...and there! Finally situated, the Merchant let out a sigh, peered over the counter, and took in the specials board. And quirked a brow.

"That's a lot of emphasis on BABIES," he said. "I didn't accidentally mosey on into a troll joint or something, did I?"

He added hastily, for any trolls that might be within earshot, " NOT that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not exactly something for this delicate little tum-tum." With a nice little pat on a tum-tum that was as delicate as a small basketball.

The little man's difficulty with the stool had drawn Hardison's attention. "A troll joint?" he asked in confusion before understanding what he meant. "Ah, no. They're just makin' fun of me," he explained.

"So no actual babies were harmed in the making of these meals? " the Merchant asked, and really, one could never be too careful where he was from.

Thrn there was a slightly awkward pause, and he cleared his throat.

"Errr, Uhhhh. Except that veal, anyway."

"No sapient babies were harmed," Hardison confirmed. "We got a strict rule about that here at Luke's. Sup," he said, standing and walking over to the newcomer with his hand extended for a shake. "I'm Hardison. This is my boyfriend's diner, what can we get you?"

"The Merchant of Miracles!" he offered with appropriate flair, plopping his long, thin hand in Hardison's, and shaking it in a way that managed to get his bottom off the stool for the duration. It almost seemed like he hovered. "Nice ta meet'cha! I'm the very recent owner of the one, the only Turtle & Canary, which I've come to understand is quite the institution on this here little island! What'cha got in the way of, I don't know, mutton? Maybe some starshroom pie, that a thing here? I'll happily settle for a lemon creme, as well. Something sweet , just like me!

"Gonna avoid that gingerbread, though. I actually know a woman who makes that stuff out of people. Kinda puts ya off it for a while, ya know?"

"Pleasure's mine," Hardison said, a little concerned the guy would topple off the stool. But--nope. Looked like he had it. "Mutton, I know we got. Starshrooms I ain't never heard of, but I can make the busboy go check the freezer."

"Heyyyy!" the busboy started to whine, but Hardison ignored him.

"And some kinda lemon cream for dessert? Probably somethin' the cook can whip up. How you want your mutton?"

Hardison was one hundred percent okay with making more work for the kitchen staff right now, oh yes.

"Burnt to a crisp!" the Merchant informed him happily, already salivating a little at the thought of practically inedible char on his lips. "And pink in the middle!"

Good luck with that one.

Hey, Hardison wasn't going to make it. The staff could deal with those impossible tasks all day for all he cared.

"Well, you heard the customer," Hardison called into the kitchen. "Mutton! Charred on the outside, rare on the inside! Let's go let's go!"

I love you anyway, precious nerdy teenage!Hardison

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Luke's Diner, Thursday

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OOC