Pearl sits at the cafe’s table, swaying her feet back and forth. “So… whose leg do you have to hump to get a dry martini around here?” Pearl chuckled humming.
“God, look at the size of these steak knives. Wha… what are they serving us? Tyrannosaurus rex?”
Brown looks up at her in disbelief. “Not likely.”
Pearl chuckled nervously and picked up a nearby ketchup bottle, “Hey, what if I just drank this whole bottle of ketchup? Can you imagine? You dare me?”
“Kind of ruins it for the next person who might want some ketchup.” Brown replied, continuing to look down at his menu.
“So, how’s the business with Ernst?” Pearl asked, wondering about their relationship since she hasn’t really seen them interact that much together.
“It’s alright, I guess. He let me go as his assistant, but we still talk.” The boy replied, looking up at Pearl and raising a brow.
“Yeah?”
“That’s pretty much it.”
“Boy, that’s got to be an interesting job. Doing experiments all the time, going on adventures. Is it fun?
“What? The operations?”
“Yeah, are they fun?”
“You wanna know if I find the operations fun? Pearl, anytime I go on said operations, I almost die!”
“…oh.”
“You want to maybe just go?” Brown suggested.
“Brown, come on, I’m really trying hard here.”
“Who asked you to try hard?”
“Nobody, but all… I’m trying to establish a friendship with you.”
“All I’ve done is try to be nice to you, and you still don’t like me. How can you not like me?” The blue-haired girl had a saddened tone.
“Okay.” Brown closed his menu and looked directly at Pearl. “I’ll tell ya…
You are the worst person I know. You constantly hit on your best friend’s wife, the man pays for your food and rescued you from certain death and this is how you repay him? And to add insult to injury, you defecate all over his yard, and you’re such a sponge. You pay for nothing, you always say “ooh, I’ll get you later” but later never comes. And what really bothers me is you pretend you’re this deep guy who loves women for their souls, when all you do is date bimbos. Yeah, I date women for their bodies, but at least I’m honest about it. I don’t buy them a copy of Catcher in the Rye and then lecture them with some seventh grade interpretation of how Holden Caulfield was some profound intellectual. He wasn’t. He was a spoiled brat. And that’s why you like him so much. He’s you. God, you’re pretentious. And you delude yourself by thinking you’re some great writer even though you’re terrible. You know, I should’ve known Cheryl Tiegs didn’t write me that note, she would’ve known there’s no ‘a’ in the word ‘definite’. And you know what I hate most about you, is your textbook liberal agenda, how we should “legalise pot, man”, how big business is crushing the underclass, how homelessness is the biggest tragedy in America, well what have you done to help? I work down at the soup kitchen Pearl, never seen you down there. You wanna help? Grab a ladle. And by the way, driving a Prius doesn’t make you Jesus Christ. Oh wait, you don’t believe in Jesus Christ, or any religion for that matter, because “religion is for idiots”. Well who the hell are you to talk down to anyone? You failed college twice, which isn’t nearly as bad as your failure as a father, how’s that son of yours you never see? But you know what? I could forgive all of that, all of it, if you weren’t such a bore. That’s the worst of it, Pearl. You’re just a big, sad, alcoholic bore. I’ll see you, Pearl. Thanks for the fucking steak.” Brown slammed his menu on the table and stormed off, now in a shitty mood.
“…” Pearl simply got up and left, heading back to her dorm to think about what had been said to her.