Rosie raises her head, yawns massively, pushes her glasses up her nose and mumbles,
"Does anyone else want waffles? I suddenly want waffles. How about we all get waffles together, and Day and Italian can work through their problems over waffles? Nate, can you make me a waffle?"
Nate smiles. "Chocolate chip, like always?"
“...it's better to feel the ache inside me like demons scratching at my heart than it is to feel numb the way a dead body feels when you touch it."
"HAHA, finally done with those push-ups,but i'm still hungry......" Crow says, then looks around. Slowly, hunger-induced hallucinations begin to turn everyone into french fries, greasy, steaming, fresh french fries. For a second, he starts to want to eat everyone, but shakes the hallucination off, then walks over to french-fry Nate.
"Nate, could you bring me a plate of fries, and send over some bacon to Rosie; it's just not right to eat waffles without bacon.
"If you were to die without anyone ever remembering you, then does that mean you never existed? If so, that is why I write, to be remembered; to exist.". -me
"No problem, Rosie, just helping out a fellow waffle-lover," crow said, nodding in Rosies direction, then taking a bite out of a ketchup-covered fry. After quenching his hunger, Crow decided to see how many people in the tavern liked waffles.
Standing up on a chair, Crow got everyone's attention, then yelled, "Nate, give everyone in here a pitcher of whatever they like, all payed for by me, if they raise their hand when I ask: Who likes waffles?" In response, Nate walks into his backroom to check how much he has in stock, knowing he'll need a lot.
"If you were to die without anyone ever remembering you, then does that mean you never existed? If so, that is why I write, to be remembered; to exist.". -me
"Sure you can, Rosie, You'll probably be able to draw more attention than I can," Crow says with a welcoming smile. Behind the counter, Nate walks back in with a smile stuck on his face, but Crow's to pre-occupied to ask why Nate's so happy.
"If you were to die without anyone ever remembering you, then does that mean you never existed? If so, that is why I write, to be remembered; to exist.". -me
"Sweet. I'm going to try to stand up on a chair, too. It seems much more dramatic than just sitting down." Rosie pushes her stool back from the counter, walks to a table, pulls out a chair and wobbles as she attempts to climb onto it. "I hope I don't fall."
Suddenly, Rosie loses her balance. She instinctively raises her hands to her face to protect her glasses. Just as she's about to slam into the floor...
“...it's better to feel the ache inside me like demons scratching at my heart than it is to feel numb the way a dead body feels when you touch it."
"Whoa, you gotta be more careful," Crow says while catching Rosie in his arms. He sets her down gently, then looks at the staring crowd and quietly tells her, "But good job making a scene, now everyone is paying attention."
Crow winks at Rosie, then asks if she'd like to do the honors of asking about waffles, of course, while not standing on a chair.
"If you were to die without anyone ever remembering you, then does that mean you never existed? If so, that is why I write, to be remembered; to exist.". -me
Rosie smiles awkwardly. "I'd love to. Thanks for...you know. I'm sort of clumsy. When I normally fall, no one catches me, so I get bruised up. I guess I was lucky you were around this time. Otherwise, I might be pretty messed up."
She brushes herself off, runs a trembling hand through her messy hair, and asks loudly:
"So...Who likes waffles?"
“...it's better to feel the ache inside me like demons scratching at my heart than it is to feel numb the way a dead body feels when you touch it."
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