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Sid looks around the pizzeria him, Shawn and Craig have selected to go get some lunch in, if 3:30 PM can still be called lunch. It’s almost empty of course, and there’s an Italian-ish decoration going on, it’s a pretty nice restaurant for them. At least touring gives the opportunity to eat in different places, if the country they’re in isn’t too strict on times. Some places close at very inconvenient times when your schedule involves as much transport as theirs.
The waiter has already come to get their order and hopefully he’ll be back soon enough with their drinks. Sid is entirely immune to anyone judging his preference for real sugar coke, Shawn has tried to tell him to get some nice beer because apparently that’s one of the nice things you can get there, but no. Sid doesn’t want fancy ass beer.
Craig didn’t either but because it’s a non-speaking day, Shawn steamrolled over him and got him a beer. Sid gets his phone out of his pocket to ask Craig what he’d like instead, and sees that he already has a message : Fucker needs to learn to respect other people’s wishes . Glancing up to catch Craig’s eyes, Sid nods and puts his head to the side in question, then watches as Craig starts typing again.
“We’re at a restaurant, an actual, honest to fuck restaurant! Dude, drop your phone!”
Craig kicks Shawn under the table just as Sid blurts out, “Clown, what the fuck? How d’you propose Craig talks then?”
And Shawn doesn’t really look contrite so much as as if a light bulb had turned in behind his eyes. “Awww, sorry man…”
Craig rolls his eyes like the 5 year in a row unbeaten international all category champion that he is. Sid feels his phone vibrate in his hand and looks down. Remember that time in Tokyo with the feather? And Sid nods and grins wolfishly at his phone, and then at their band’s resident vengeful geek.
Long, nimble fingers moving over his phone in anticipation, Sid turns to Shawn and pokes him to the side.
“That wasn’t very nice, Shawny…”
Startling at the poke, Shawn tries to move over to the other side, only to realize he sat himself between Sid and the wall. He tries to swat Sid’s hand away, misses and makes a small indignant peep when Sid pokes him again.
“You also ordered something he didn’t want…” Sid pauses for effect, and also to get more fingers against Shawn’s midriff in the spots he knows are so terribly ticklish. As anticipated Shawn starts giggling helplessly. “We feel you need to learn your lesson!”
And since there’s still nobody in the restaurant and they’re a bit loud, but not disruptive at all, the waiter lets them be and Sid keeps tickling Shawn in spite of the broken little pleas to stop. Who ever listens to anyone when they’re tickling them, it’s the point, isn’t it? Craig is sitting back and grinning wide, and wider every time Shawn’s pathetic little please get more desperate and he’s squirming more and more violently, until he physically pushes Sid out of his way to run out of the room and into the toilets.
Sid sits back into his chair and laughs with Craig. “Would you like me to see if they have Jagermeister? I can also ask them to cancel Clown’s beer order, y’know, since his prostate is clearly bothering him…”