Meanwhile, Fred, the terrorist, former high school chum and general not-on-the-best-terms-with-pancake-cooks-er, was desperately trying to multitask (something the male human is decidedly challenged by).
His brain's pie chart went something like this:
10% Think about sex
10% Think about getting sex
10% Think about the sex he wanted to get
35% Do your very best to remember Wally's name.
15% Be giddy while telling nostalgic high school stories with Steve
15% Be both gruff, angry, and make demands of the customers
05% Avoid staring at the vomity fellow.
Now given that the average human, of which Fred was certainly below, uses only 10% of his brain, one can imagine how faceted these thoughts and actions were proceeding.
"Hey... Wil...all...yer...son...chan...eeeHey Steve! Steve! Do you remember our teacher, Mrs. Livingstone? Man was she nuts I... KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM, CAPITALIST SCUM!" Was the general flow of his conversation, all the while staring quite rudely at Ronald, and Amber’s tushie (as she was in quite the delicate position, hiding under one of the tables)
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