Racetrack: "You forgot the part about how the customers wantin me ta autograph them too." (enthusiastically grabs a menu) "You wouldn't believe how hungry signin stuff makes ya."
Stretch: "I wouldn't believe you knew how to sign yer name."
Racetrack: "Autographs ain't free..."
Stretch: "M'NOT ASKIN FOR A-"
Racetrack: (grins) "So let's eat. I hear the food here is good!"
Specs: "I hear nothin but noise here right now..."
Waiter: Very well, Ill be back with your waters.
Racetrack: "Ah very good- Now my good man, what do you recommend?!"
Waiter: "...Try the fries." (rolls eyes and walks off)
Racetrack: "Why that sounds delightful!"
Skittery: "Order yet?"
Racetrack: "Yeah, nothin' like a good glass of water to fill ya up."
Fantasy: "Yeah, I better get one... where's dat waiter?"
Racetrack: "WAITER!! Yeah, you! Me friends would like some water. Thanks."
Skittery: "Yer gonna get us kicked out."
Waiter: "Your waters." (places two glasses on table)
Fantasy: "Thanks."
Racetrack: "See, now Fantasy has manners. Go on, Skittery. Try yer manners on dis waitress... Er, waiter." (smirks)
Stretch: "Race!"
Waiter: "That's enough."
Blaze: (to Specs and Stretch) "Youse two bums mind if I sit with ya?"
Skittery: "An what about the rest of us Blaze? We ain't up ta par with your sitting standards?"
Racetrack: (snickers) "Nah Skitts, we just ain't bums."
Kid Blink: "We already ordered though-"
Specs: "Ya call what Race did ordering?!"
Racetrack: "I asked for fries and fries I shall get!"
Stretch: "-Bet the waiter spits in 'um."
Racetrack: (innocent puzzlement) "But why would he do a thing like that?"
As if on que, the waiter brought out their fries and set it down in front of them, giving something of a snort seeing yet another Newsie had joined the crowd.
Waiter: "Lemme guess- another water? Heaven forbid you kids order somethin that's worth more than my tip."
Racetrack: "Tip you say? You think you're gettin a-"
Fantasy lunged forward, clapping a hand over Racetrack's mouth before his smartass remarks got them all thrown out or food poisoned.
Blaze: "...er, Water'd be great.
Specs: "Whaddya think? Look like the guy hawked one in the fries?"
Skittery: "They look more...moist than usual..."
Fantasy: "Is that a bubble?"
Stretch: "Where?"
Fantasy: "There!"
Blaze: "S'just a piece of salt."
Fantasy: "Aw c'mon guys don't let your imaginations cheat ya outta eatin."
Stretch: "She's gotta point. We can't afford ta waste this stuff-"
Skittery: (snickers bitterly) "Great, we're too poor to turn down spit for lunch..."
Stretch: "...Ya gotta admit. For a Tibby's guy...this waiter sure is hostile today."
Kid Blink: "He musta bought a pape from Race then."
Fantasy: (nods in agreement, eating a fry) "Yup. Tha's the only explanation."
Racetrack: "-I must've spelled his name wrong in his autograph."
Stretch: Did you just call me aggrivating?
Specs: In a manner of speaking.
Skittery: Says the man who grinds his teeth in his sleep.
Fantasy: Annoying even asleep. Thats damn talent, that is.
Stretch: You're healthy?
Specs: Of course.
Stretch: Then I would much rather die of illness.
Race: Stretch, you speak the truth like no other.
Stretch: Care for a bit more?
Race: Sure.
Stretch: The fry you just ate had spit on it.
Race: Not this again. Its not nice to blame your imagination on helpless waiters.
Stretch: Who said anything about blaming anyone? I spit on it.
Racetrack: "...Ya honest ta God spit on that thing?"
Stretch: "Thought I'd give it some flavor." (arches a suspicious brow) ...What's with the look Race?"
Racetrack: "I just....you spat on it....willingly gave me your spit in hopes that it'd go in my mouth. -Tha's practically kissing me!"
Stretch: (slams her hands down on the table) "WHAT?!"
Racetrack: "I mean- there are other ways of asking of course...but if you're shy and wanted to be subtle about it I could understa-"
Stretch: (yelling) "What the hell is wrong with you! That brain of yours is delusional you know that!?!"
Skittery: (mumbles) "Heh, that got her worked up in a hurry...."
Fantasy: "...No kiddin."
Stretch: "Don't you two even start with me. He's twisted and sick and-"
Racetrack: "I happen to think spittin on someone's food falls under the same qualifications."
Brink: "See? You're perfect for him Stretch."
Stretch: "What?!? Enough!!!"
Jake: "Hahaha, man whatta good lunch an I ain't even had a bite yet!"
Racetrack: "Well since my meal's been rendered...un-meal-like...I think it's time for me ta split."
Stretch: (After he's left) "Yes, revenge is sweet-" (eats a fry) "-er, salty in this case."
Fantasy: (laughs) "You're kiddin! That was all ta scare Race outta lunch?"
Flare: "So the rest of the fries aaaare....fine?"
Specs: (munches one) "More than."
Jake: "Good, I'm starved" (Grabs a handful)
Fantasy: "Uh...guys? ...He stuck us with the check."