Chapter 119 - Ping, No-

While Jonathan watches the rain of noisily bouncing marbles spreading out across a very large portion of the dining area their table is located within, his left eye twitches, and he squeezes the small object in his hand.

"You'd break things if I gave it to you!" As Jonathan angrily yells this, Miss Chievous has, somehow, grown even more excited about the potential gift.

"Whatsit-whatsit-whatsit!? Gimme!" Miss Chievous doesn't even bother trying to rein in her enthusiasm, holding her hands cupped together just under his, discordantly bouncing her legs up and down rapidly from her seated position on her chair.

Lucas snorts out his dissatisfaction, his frown far more of a pout than a scowl. After leaning back in his chair for a moment, his boredom from no longer having the marbles to play with compels him to actually start picking some of them up off of the ground.

"No I wouldn't." Lucas quietly grumbles out in a sulky, downright petulant, voice.

The fact that he, a physically fully grown man in a fancy expensive suit, is crawling around on the ground on his hands and knees, picking up glass marbles that he accidentally scattered everywhere, doesn't do much to support his claim.

Once 23 has set down the platter of cheese fries between the loudly laughing Rewind and Freeze Frame, it heads over to aid Lucas in his evasive glass orb acquisition.

Miss Calculated has merely snorted out a single laugh while listening to these antics, not even bothering to spare any of them a glance as she continues on her math-laden mission. She's going to need more paper from 23 soon, or the unfortunate table is going to end up tanking her again.

Miss Masher is far more attentive than their other companions. She has recently finished licking the last of the hot sauce off of her fingers and is now wiping them the rest of the way clean, actively staring at Jonathan's hand bearing the mysterious coveted object.

Jonathan sighs lightly, then draws in a deep breath. Turning to look Miss Chievous directly in the eyes, he purposely slows down his speech a bit and tries to be as assertive as possible.

"You. Have. To. Promise." The uncharacteristic firmness behind Jonathan's statement makes Miss Chievous freeze her movements.

"Wha-buh-I… Um… I'll… T-try? Come on! What-is-it-I-want-it-gimme-it!?" While Miss Chievous unsuccessfully tries to circumvent making a promise she knows she absolutely won't keep, Miss Masher breaks out laughing.

"Hey, at least she didn't lie!" Miss Masher barely manages to squeeze this out between laughter, grinning from ear to ear while doing so.

"See? Shhe shhouldn't get it either, hmph." Lucas sulkily adds in his two cents from the ground nearby, holding a small collection of marbles in his left hand as he continues crawling around to pick them up with his right.

With all this chaos going on, Willy has turned in his seat so he's directly facing Jonathan and Miss Chievous's interactions, his tail energetically wagging with amusement. In response to Lucas's latest protestations, he even barks once in agreement.

"Pllleeeaaassseee!?" Deciding to try a different method of approach, Miss Chievous is doing her best puppy-dog-eyes impression she can muster at Jonathan.

Given the small sharp breath he just drew in, it even seems to have some degree of effectiveness.

"W-well, I, um… Yo-you can have it, bu-but you have to pro-promise only to, um, you'll only th-throw it, um, ou-outside…" While Jonathan blatantly loses his resolve, Lucas snorts again, now standing up as 23 had gathered all of the other marbles for him already.

"Yay! I promise!" Miss Chievous excitedly throws her arms up in the air in her jubilations, then leans forward and pulls Jonathan in for a hug.

Sure, she's no Natalie, but the faceful of cleavage is still more than enough to catch a certain healthy 14-year-old's attention. Fully activating shy and awkward mode, he just freezes in place for a few moments before finally pulling himself out of her hold, completely red-faced in record time.

"He-here…" Barely squeaking this out in a quiet voice, he finally opens his hand and drops a small, bright pink, rubber ball into her hands.

Everyone who had been watching had their attention keenly focused on the contents of his right hand, curious as to what it could possibly be. Thanks to their collective focus being diverted, no one pays any attention to the fact that he promptly buries his head in his arms, leaning face-down against the table. He manages to cover all of his face, but the bright red tips of his ears are still peaking out of his hair.

Miss Chievous excitedly starts bouncing the ball between her hands, rolling it across the table while playing an improvised version of a certain iconic old-school two-player game with herself.

Meanwhile, Jonathan continues experiencing shame as a free action.

Since her hands are now clean by everyone apart from Jonathan's standards, Miss Masher holds a flat-palmed hand out, clearly wanting to join in on the game.

After a few more self-bounces, Miss Chievous does actually pass the ball over to her sister, though of course, her aim is rather lacking. As they continue a few volleys back and forth, Lucas has become fully invested in this new game, to the point he puts all of the marbles away in their pouch and puts it back into his pocket.

If 23 were physically capable of sighing with relief, it most certainly would have just done so. Further adding on to the reasons it should be satisfied, it had managed to supply Miss Calculated with another strip of receipt paper before she turned her affections toward the table once more.

As Lucas leans forward so as to be lined up enough to join the game around Jonathan's embarrassed attempts at hiding his face, Jonathan shouts into the table without shifting his position.

"Wash your hands!" With Jonathan's strict command, Lucas freezes in his tracks. After a few seconds, he gets up, apparently agreeing once he put some thought into it.

While Lucas wanders off vaguely in the direction indicated by the restrooms sign, the match has intensified between Miss Masher and Miss Chievous. Miss Masher certainly has to overcompensate with her reach a few times for shots that by all rights should be considered out of bounds, but they stubbornly manage to keep the ball in perpetual motion.

Jonathan is even technically participating, given the number of times the ball has bounced off of his arm.

Over the course of time it takes for Lucas to find the very obviously marked men's room, wash his hands, and return to the table, not once has the ball stopped moving.

When he's seated once again and positions himself accordingly, within short order the ball is also sent his way.

After a few volleys between Lucas and Miss Chievous, the ball, unsurprisingly, goes off course. Whether it was due to Miss Chievous's poor inebriated aim, or Lucas's poor inebriated reaction time, or a combination of both, is immaterial. What matters is that the ball has shot right past him.

Willy, however, just barely manages to catch it between his front teeth. Continuing to hold it in his mouth, he barks at them twice, declaring playtime over.

The three people that were actively invested in the ongoing game all whine at varying volumes, but Miss Calculated breaks out in full-blown laughter, slapping the two strips of paper densely packed in her scrawlings on the surface of the suffering table.

"There! Finished!" As Miss Calculated makes her thrilled declaration, with admittedly a bit of a crazed undertone, 23 quietly sets down a plate with a large cut of steak, steamed vegetables, and mashed potatoes in front of Willy.

It knows full well who deserves to be served first.

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Lucas total kills: 7

Lucas total deaths: 11

Lucas total assists: 1

Lucas current GDV: 12.21 (+.01 net change)

Lucas's fame level: 4.50* (Beyond just local, viral meme tier. Local levels are extremely high.)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.5* (More than just passing suspicion for some paranoid individuals, people are realizing he's an impulsive idiot)

Jonathan total kills: 6

Jonathan total deaths: 2

Jonathan current GDV: 3.95 (.01 +.01 = +.02 net change)

Jonathan's fame level: 2.75* (Mostly just local)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 2.75* (A few paranoid individuals are suspicious)

Willy's fame level: 1.5* (Anonymous meme fame, local fame primarily as 'Xenoclast's dog', but some strangers know him as William/Willy now)

Supervillain social circle size: 11

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Little character theater:

Jonathan is busy feeling too awkward to sit up straight, but also way too embarrassed to leave, either.

Willy gently sets the ball down on the edge of the small plate under his water bowl, stopping it from rolling around while keeping it out of reach from the intoxicated fools.

Lucas is actually more interested in what Miss Calculated has to say than the ball at this point: How long till I get my fan-shee boomerang!? Shhut up and take my money!

427 is relieved on Jonathan's behalf that 011 doesn't fully understand the extent of how embarrassed Jonathan is right now.

Author, sipping a cookies and cream milkshake: Ay, the food's actually here, maybe we won't be in the restaurant for 20 chapters. Ha, who am I kidding?

Mr. Quacks, staring at the steak larger than he is on Willy's plate, impatient for his own to arrive: Quack!