@spiriteddefense
Nice pushed his empty plate away across the table with a satisfied sigh. There was nothing like a good, well-cooked meal to feed the soul, and there was no damn way that he would be able to make one for himself. Nothing anywhere near this tasty, anyway. Finding a restaurant to eat at had turned out to be a good idea.
Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled the check towards himself. Humming a little tune to himself, he opened the folder to reveal the price of his delicious lunch.
He stopped humming.
He pulled his hand out of his pocket, looking down at the pitiful amount of currency in his hand. He dug around in his other vest pocket, and came up empty. Pants pockets: nothing. Back pockets: desolate. Shoes: only his feet. Obviously.
Nice frowned down at the various coins sitting on the table. It was clearly not enough to pay for it; you could tell at a glance.
But just then, the waitress approached his table, and it was too late to try to arrange them so it was more ambiguous or to make an escape or something. He looked up kind of sheepishly–wow, nice one–and scratched his cheek a bit.
“Uh… Keep the change?”
