Carl moseyed on up to the ledge where Hank and Cliff were sitting, watching the people below.

“Good crowd today, eh fellas?â€? Carl took a seat next to Hank, who was visually agitated by the interruption.

“Yeah, I guess.â€? Hank’s exasperation failed to faze Carl.

“You guys want to attack table seven with me? Looks like the kid couldn’t finish her lunch.”

Cliff decided a less tactful approach would work best. “Dude, beat it. We don’t want you around.â€?

Carl zigged and zagged as he flew off the perch, eventually landing on a recently vacated table, and disappeared into a pile of uneaten french fries.

“Man, I hate that guy. Something about him just bugs me.â€?

“Yeah, I know what you mean.â€? Hank quickly rubbed his legs together and wiped them on his bulging eyes. “He dated my sister for a while. Not sure what she saw in him.â€?

Cliff nudged his friend, “hey, check it out. Half-eaten cheeseburger at table four.â€?

“Sweet!â€? The two buzzed off towards table four, darting through the swatting hands of annoyed patrons.