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Suspend time and space and come away with me to a magical land where pink bow ties and the smooth sounds of Duke Silver rule the night...
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"I'm sorry," Ron's voice came out gruff; he cleared his throat, looking around the restaurant. "Is this establishment open?" They really shouldn't have an open sign and an unlocked door, he thought, stroking his mustache. False advertising.
A man in an un-ironed button down appeared behind the counter. "Welcome to Soup'r Crackers," he announced, the timbre of nigh-forced cheerfulness ringing in his tone. "Our special today is Vegetarian Beef."
Ron frowned. He eyed the man behind the counter. Ron, his name tag said. "Sir -- Ron -- I'm afraid I must behoove you to remove that scurrilous item from your menu. Vegetarian," he spat out the word, "and beef, Mother Nature's gift to the brave, hardly belong in the same title, let alone in the same establishment."
Ron frowned. "We have many other delicious soups to choose from, sir." He was humble. That was an excellent quality for a businessman to have. And this Ron certainly was a businessman: Ron noticed that under his name tag was the title Manager. A fine aspiration.
Ron shook his head. "I don't think I can enjoy even your fine array of Soup and Crackers in the presence of Vegetarian Beef," again, the title came out full of scathing ire, "But it doesn't seem as if you have many other customers to wait on, if you'd..." Ron corrected himself, "If a fine entrepreneur like yourself would like to join me on a quest for some real food." Ron wasn't even sure what he had been doing in the first place. Soup was for the weak.
Ron's face lit up. "You're paying?"
"Every man for himself," Ron replied, his mustache hiding a smirk.