"Why, you ungrateful little tart!" Brandon said, his voice full of indignation. "I'm the only reason you've even made it this far, and I'll have remind you that I can take it all away just as easily." He signaled to a waiter, as his hands grew to adult proportions, with suspiciously soft features and long fingernails.
"Yes?" The waiter asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid my companion will not be eating with us tonight, she's suffering from an upset stomach," Brandon lied.
"Very well, should I call her a limo to drive her home?" the waiter offered.
"Not at all, she has most generously offered to wait outside while I eat my meal. She claims the fresh air will do her good." Brandon said.
Brandon's mother was shocked at the audacity of her son's claims, and even more so that throughout the entire ordeal, during the entire time Brandon was spinning this outrageous tale and the waiter was escorting her to the restaurant door, she couldn't bring herself to say a word. Instead, it was all she could do to find a bench, sit down, and wait obediently for Brandon to finish.
Brandon, meanwhile, suddenly found himself without a dinner companion, but luckily spotted someone he deemed worthy of his companionship a few tables down.
