(Untitled)

[command_dot_com]

Sitting at a table trying to enjoy her dinner is a tiny woman, with a large white dog sitting next to her. The dog is begging shamelessly, he can smell that medium rare steak and the fully loaded (with bacon bits) baked potato and occaissionally his head flicks, sending white dreadlocks swaying as he snaps a bit of tossed steak out of the air.

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Comments

[mend_and_defend]

As he's chewing on a bit of steak, Bob starts to feel... itchy. And wobbly. Kind of like when--

Uh oh.

He backs away from the table, looking around frantically for cover.

[command_dot_com]

"Bob? What's wrong?"

Dot starts getting up and watches the dog as it runs to hide under the nearest booth.

[mend_and_defend]

It's surprisingly dark under the booth's table; the dog disappears into the shadows.

A moment later, there's a klonk and a distinctly human "Ow!" from the underside of the table.

[command_dot_com]

"Bob!" She kneels down to look under the table at him, check and see if he's alright as a human. "Are you oka- ..."

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells was a bit late for his usual trip into the Bar tonight, but he doubtless winds up wandering past Dot and Bob's table somewhere along the way this evening.

[mend_and_defend]

The booth looks vacant, but Wells can no doubt smell the agitated human hiding underneath the table. As he approaches, the man presses himself against the wall, trying to keep out of sight.

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells leans over to peer in the general direction of the agitated scent. "You all right down there, mate?" he calls out.

[mend_and_defend]

Crap. He's been spotted.

"Yeah... just... kinda not dressed right now."