The Ships Inn ... Wall Street Station, Honshu

[onca]

~Pete sautners into the Newark bar VIP section~

"Morning Soph."

"Well look what the cat dragged in! Morning Mr. P, so you're back from Cambridge at last. The usual I take it? The frier is nicely warmed up."

"Good news travels fast.... my extended stay on that ostensible paradise has indeed come to an end, although I can't say I'm sorry. Too many propeller-heads for my liking."

"Yes I'd understand you spent the past 4 weeks in another woman's bar.... I ought to put you out on your ear, bucko!"

"Oh now don't be like that.... No matter where I go in this vast cosmos, there is not a single establishment, from the Rheinland to the Taus, which can hold a candle to Sophie's place!"

"Mmmm... all right you can stay. But you'll notice the new table service -- and by that I mean knives, forks and napkins. I'm sure a man who's spent better part of a month in Bretonia does not need to be shown how to use them."

"Napkins? But that's why God gave us shirts!"

~Evil stare~

~Few minutes later, Pete is chowing down on a nice bacon butty, napkin tucked into the front of his shirt. He is presently checking his latest comms message from his illustrious CEO~

"WHAT THE FU....*cough choke*