Seymour - Dining during the battle pt1

OOC - Andy you will pay for your insolence! Which is why there is a
horrible bit about Jay in the second part of this post.
Who: Seymour, Scott Yorah, Efof (probably) and Jay and Justin on
t'other ends of the same rope
Where: The Mollopod planet, in the capital city
When: As the Krylons attack
Seymour had made an honourable retreat as the fighting had broken out.
He had never been made for fighting, so he left everyone else to do it
for him.
Instead he had ducked into what looked like a swanky little Italian
restaurant off the high street, just down from the transporter pads,
where the patrons were trying to serve old-fashioned delicacies from
the baroque period.
Seymour squinted in confusion as the overweight Mollopod shook his
hand immediately after entering the establishment. The Ambassador
looked behind him to make sure the war was still going on in the street.
"Would you like to see the wine list sir?"
"Erm... are you aware there is a battle going on in the street?"
"Yes sir. But we refuse this to let it spoil our business. We still
have paying customers here."
Seymour looked around the small restaurant, there were indeed some
paying customers in the establishment. All sipping wine nervously and
acting as if the loud explosions and blood-curdling screams from
outside weren't affecting them. A close explosion shook the ceiling,
making grains of plaster fall onto one table. The Mollopod eating
there just grumbled and tried to ignore it.
"Wine list sir?"
"Erm... well... I suppose so."
"Please sir, come this way. I have a nice table for you here."
Seymour flinched as a bullet whizzed through the glass from of the
restaurant and embedded itself into the wall above his head. "Thank
you." He said, and followed the waiter, who was brushing the plaster
from the chair.
As soon as Seymour sat down, a piece of shrapnel from an explosion
just outside embedded itself into the head of a Mollopod sitting by
the window. No sooner had he slumped back in his chair, then a
waitress had dragged him away and another had tidied away his plate.
Another couple came from outside, the man wearing a top-hat, and the
woman wearing a ball gown. They were shown to the table where the man
had been killed mere moments ago.
The waiter brought Seymour the wine. It was a bottle covered in
something that looked like coolant. It was what the Krylons had leaked
when they were shot.
"I'm sorry sir, but I had to wrestle this bottle from a rather rude
gentlemen in the cellar."
"Actually I think I'll skip on the wine... I need to..." Seymour
looked at the wine. "What vintage is that?"
"2097, a good year sir."
"I'll say! And from the Quantilous Quasgar Mountain range in the
region of Stavroluma Andromeda!"
"Yes sir. A very good vintage."
Seymour watched as the waiter poured into his glass. Seymour could not
contain his excitement about drinking such a rare and exotic drink.
This was an especially hard vintage to get hold of, and if Seymour
could take one sip of it's winy goodness he could brag about it at his
wine-tasting club for years.
The waiter was pouring extremely slowly as not to spill a drop. "Yes.
Hurry up. I want to drink it some time this century you know."
"As you wish sir." Said the waiter and offered him the glass.
"Did you know that wine from the Quantilous Quasgar Mountain range in
the region of Stavroluma Andromeda is plucked by beings of pure energy?"
"Really Sir?"
"Yes, and the grapes are then carried on cushions of the richest silk
to a factory where 99 sensuous virgins crush them with their naked
thighs."
"Yes Sir, it says that on the label. Is it to your satisfaction?"
Seymour closed his eyes. There was not one single person he knew that
had tasted this rare wine, and he would be the first. As he moved the
glass to his lips he considered the words he would use when he wrote
his review for the next edition of "Galactic Wines" magazine.
He blotted out all sounds of the busy restaurant, of the battle
outside. He wanted to make sure no other sense would distract him from
this moment.
He put the glass to his lip and cried out in pain.
"Out, it cut my lip!"
He opened his eyes quickly and realised the glass had been shattered
into jaggedy edges. The bottle the waiter was holding suddenly
exploded, and so did the waiter's chest. Seymour quickly ducked as the
fat slug-man lunged towards him, quite clearly dead before he hit the
ground.
More gunfire peppered the restaurant and the patrons tried to take
cover under the tables. Most of them were too fat to manage this and
just got killed trying.
Seymour hid behind the fat waiter, and only popped his head up when
the shooting had stopped.
A single Krylon soldier stood in the door. It's left arm was smoking.
The reason for this is that it was actually more of a gun than an
appendage for holding things.
"Do you know what you have done?!" Seymour stood up and scolded the
robot. "You have destroyed possibly the only chance I'll ever have to
tasting a wine from the Quantilous Quasgar Mountain range in the
region of Stavroluma Andromeda."
The robot replied with a mechanical voice. "You are correct. You will
never have another chance."
The robot's arm changed from a gun to something more dangerous at
close combat. A chainsaw.
<To be continued! (including Jay's horrible punishment)>