August 15th 1:37 pm 2058 - Outside Crusher 495
Across the diner, a basso profundo voice began singing, almost quietly to themselves but forks against knives and spoons against coffee mugs picked up the beat. There was no pause in the eating or quiet conversation among the troll and orc diners but there was a definite indication that someone didn't belong.
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
To live
They got little hands
And little eyes
And they walk around
Tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet
Well, I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Round here
The singer was looking not at Raven but at Kahlia.
Isaac sighed. "You're new," he said. "You didn't come in with one of the regulars, so you're going to get hassled. We don't have many places to call our own so if you come in here and you aren't an orc or a troll, you need to have thick skin until they accept you."
On the other side of the diner, Raven's phone rang. "Can't give you an estimate over the phone and I can't say if I can do it under the table without looking at it. I might not have all the tools needed. Where are you? If it's close, I'll drop by and take a look when I get a minute. Wait. Is that 'Short People'? Having lunch at Crusher, are you?"
Outside, the rainbow haired elf was herding the three men back into their pick-up truck with their own shotgun.