I sighed as the first bite touched my tongue.

The soft, fully texture folded under my tongue as the powerful muscle crushed the delicacy into the roof of my mouth. The simple bite had me taking in a deep, appreciative breath as the secret seasoning made itself known to my voracious taste buds.

I swallowed with a content sigh as the world snapped into place. I had returned to the mortal plane, a bit happier.

The gun shoved into my face was unexpected, and unappreciated.

“I Said. On. The. GROUND!” The man bellowed at the top of his lungs. I was sure that I would be covered in spittle if he wasn’t wearing that ridiculous ski mask. I absently note his disheveled appearance, and his cheap Smith & Wesson .38.

What the hell. This wasn’t a 10cent crime drama. How cliché.

I stared at him with a huff as I expertly cut out another piece.

Ma had raised no fool, and I knew my way around the table that had never disappointed her. Not after the disaster of thanksgiving in ’85. She was in tears at my atrocious manners. I had sworn never again to make her cry over something so trivial.

So I mastered table manners. I mastered table setting. I mastered them all to make her smile. I have yet to regret this decision. Without breaking eye contact, I made another morsel.

This one smothered in liberal butter and the world shifted once more as I ate it. The blend of butter and spices, mixed with the welcome fluff sent me off to another touch of Neverland. I closed my eyes as I let out a second, fulfilled sigh.

The cold feeling of barrel touching my temple was unwelcome, however. My mind crashed back to earth and my cutlery stilled.

I opened my eye and glared at the offender. The man froze and almost backed up a step until he realized he had a gun. He double-checked it, his eyes flickering to the powerful weapon he was pointing at his ‘victim’.

I sighed yet again. I felt my world crash around my ears as I placed my cutlery down on the table. This will definitely ruin my meal.

“Can I help you?” I ask, hoping that he would just finish robbing the place and then leave me alone. I have been waiting for this meal all month! Business matter this, world crisis that. I needed waffle time and this… this goon was interfering. Ruining!

“Get. On. The. FLOOR!” The man screamed again. He even used his crap gun to showcase the other patrons. They were all cowering on the floor, or under the dining tables. I frowned as I noted the sweet and sour Macy trembling in the kitchen.

My mood was now officially ruined.

“Look. Just finish what you need to do, and get the hell out. That, my friend, is professionalism,” I advised as I stared at the man again. I wonder if he had any brain cells to actually understand my words.

I didn’t move and he did. The gun returned to my forehead. Except for this time, he was trembling. His eyes took on a wild look.

God damn it. I hate unprofessional idiots. One taste of control and they went power tripping. How droll. Uncultured. Ma would be disgusted.

The man's hands twitched and I tensed my fingers, ready to put this pup in his place when the front door jingled. Multiple times.

We both looked over to see the commotion and our reactions couldn’t have been more polar. I smiled. Goonface froze in shock as he shat a brick.

A dozen men and women walked in. They dressed well, business formal for the men, informal for the women. The theme was a royal purple, but that wasn’t enforced so many shades of the color was present.

The second theme is axes. Or axe like. They all carried one as they walked in. The odd, design looked like a handaxe, but with a pistol built into the handle. Classy wood and dark steel.

The Purple Axe gang had rolled in.

The moved in sync. Their axes pointed high. Pointed low. The sway of their dance was hypnotic as the fanned out to fill the limited walkway of the diner. They gracefully approached and only stopped when they were two meters away.

The goonshit choked as he watched them come closer. They were eyeing him with outrage and their expressions were getting uglier as they got nearer. You could see veins throb on several of their faces.

I pondered if everyone could feel the pound of their pulses every time one of their veins pulsed.

Gooncrap made a motion. I think he was going to raise his gun.

A dozen professionals raising their own stopped him.

Huh. Guess Goonsmuck did have a few brain cells.

The stalemate ended when a pretty lady moved through.

Her heels clicked on the dull white and teal tiles and the professionals skirted to the side to allow her to pass.

She was dressed the sharpest, her professional skirt and blouse were spotless as she made her way towards me. Her sharp, green eyes studied me as she stopped by the foot of my table. She didn’t glance at Goonie beyond the first step.

“You have an appointment at 3 pm, with Mr. Andrette,” Gwendolyn said softly. I nodded as I turned back to my food. My hands froze as I stared at the butter. Solid.

I frowned as my final hope shattered. The food was cold.

“Gwen! Break him in two!” the riled up voice of Macy screamed from the kitchen as she had relaxed at the sight of the Purple Axe gang. She paid on time, and she received all the proper dues of a customer in good standings.

I nodded.

The Goonfodder barely whispered a ‘What?’ before Gwen had moved and lashed out. Her ridiculous background of dancer, gymnast, and martial arts master, proved to be the idiots undoing as she struck.

Her thumb held back the hammer of the gun, preventing it from firing. Her strong grip had the man scream as it was bending his finger painfully back. Her low kick, even in her restrictive skirt, had enough power to shatter his left knee.

Goondone was on the floor sobbing as Gwen placed the distasteful gun on another table. The two strongmen of the Purple Axes proceeded to drag the screaming man back out the front door and to their trucks.

“There is a request for a robber hitting the Blue Knives a few days ago,” Gwen supplied as she accepted a new plate from Macy. The old gran smiled as she went to double-check on her patrons and employees.

The plate was switched out and I sighed as the smell touched me once more. Gods I needed this plate. I reached down and noted the fresh cutlery as I proceeded to dig in. Gwen was the best, this just continued to cement the fact to my brain as I stared at the wisps of steam rising from the golden ambrosia.

Ma would have disapproved, but I also knew she would have turned a blind eye to my manners today. I loudly moaned again as the butter and fluff enveloped me once more.