A waiter wearing a toga and gold sandals came over, smiling. "Would you like to follow me to a table?"
Duce opened her mouth to retort with something scathing, but snapped her mouth shut and grimly nodded. She darn near stalked behind the waiter to the table.
Duce shoots him a glower, "No, just extremely wrong era. This is all," she waves a hand around, and sniffs derisively, "far too Roman."
Sliding into a seat, she looks at the buffet and the menu. "Saginaki," she just about snaps at the waiter. The waiter blinks, "Um. Would you like drinks first, m'am?" Duce snorts, "Yes, but you're unlikely to serve me alcohol. Water will do. Cheese. Fire. Soonest. Use the little wings on your sandals to bring me my cheesey flambed goodness."
"I'll have what she's having," Jonathan tells the waiter.
Turning to Duce he says, "I hope whatever you ordered is good, cause I'd hate to have ordered like, fish oil stew or something equally revolting. And hey, who doesn't love the Romans? You know... aside from the Christians and all the people in Carthage."
Duce gives him a small smile, "Kessiri cheese, covered with alcohol, lit on fire until it melts, doused with fresh lemon juice, and served with warm pita bread. No fish oil stew, promise."
She glares at the various busts, "And that.. is just beyond tacky," she nearly spits. "Half those busts are Roman, or the Roman bastardization of Greek gods." Tilting her nose upward in a clearly superior manner, she adds, "We don't love the Romans. They were total poseurs."
Someone bearing the distinct air of 'Manager' overhears and ambles on by, "Milady might be interested to know that we ordered the Greek busts, but the company sent the wrong set and it was too late to change them." His tone is placating, but his eyes are hard.
Duce sniffs again, "You should have sent them back. We would've. Hermes looks positively.. insane. Or something. And he was NOT that attractive. Not even as Mercury."
Duce opened her mouth to retort with something scathing, but snapped her mouth shut and grimly nodded. She darn near stalked behind the waiter to the table.
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"Duce, are you trying to tell me that all the television and movies I watched as a child is a lie?" he asks in mock horror.
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Sliding into a seat, she looks at the buffet and the menu. "Saginaki," she just about snaps at the waiter. The waiter blinks, "Um. Would you like drinks first, m'am?" Duce snorts, "Yes, but you're unlikely to serve me alcohol. Water will do. Cheese. Fire. Soonest. Use the little wings on your sandals to bring me my cheesey flambed goodness."
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Turning to Duce he says, "I hope whatever you ordered is good, cause I'd hate to have ordered like, fish oil stew or something equally revolting. And hey, who doesn't love the Romans? You know... aside from the Christians and all the people in Carthage."
Reply
She glares at the various busts, "And that.. is just beyond tacky," she nearly spits. "Half those busts are Roman, or the Roman bastardization of Greek gods." Tilting her nose upward in a clearly superior manner, she adds, "We don't love the Romans. They were total poseurs."
Someone bearing the distinct air of 'Manager' overhears and ambles on by, "Milady might be interested to know that we ordered the Greek busts, but the company sent the wrong set and it was too late to change them." His tone is placating, but his eyes are hard.
Duce sniffs again, "You should have sent them back. We would've. Hermes looks positively.. insane. Or something. And he was NOT that attractive. Not even as Mercury."
Reply
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