MJ on the television spun rapidly in place, performing practiced dance moves. Then he suddenly stopped, pointed east and west, grabbed his crotch, kicked his leg—all in one fluid motion—and let out a strange "Aow!"
Rhythmic music echoed continuously through the fast food restaurant. Deathstroke gently bobbed his head along with the music, looking every bit like a true music lover.
But Carol was caught in a dilemma. When Deathstroke named his terms, she had been at a loss.
Since childhood, she had lived under her mother's orders and her father's violence. After joining the military, she had followed all manner of commands. She had never experienced what it was like to negotiate terms.
Now that Deathstroke had said so, what could she offer in exchange for him saving her younger brother?
The Orange Cat took advantage of her distraction to wriggle free from her hands. It slipped past Deathstroke and ran over to Old Charlie's plate to eat his fried eggs. Old Charlie had been trembling the whole time and had barely touched his food.
There was no other reason. Even though Carol had assured them that Deathstroke would not do anything to them, sitting beside him and feeling the terrifying aura emanating from the strange man had utterly destroyed his appetite.
He did not dare leave, nor could he eat. Now that the cat had come to eat his food, he instead felt relieved.
If the plate was empty, wouldn't that give him an excuse to leave?
Unfortunately, the cat took a bite of the omelet, then a bite of bread, and decided neither tasted good. The pie it had eaten earlier had been sweet, while this was savory. It did not suit its taste.
So, under Old Charlie's despairing gaze, it held its tail high and strutted