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Well… Lance wasn’t getting out of this coffee shop any time soon, coffee-stained undershirt or no.

“My. name. is. Lance. Fires,” he said at a probably insultingly slow pace.  “What. is. your. name?”  Oh yeah, dumb.  Smart.  Nevermind.  “Yes.  I.  will. help. you. find. a. pen. And. Paper.”

Lance looked around the shop.  There were napkins on every table, but not real paper.  And no pens.  “Lets. go. up. to. the. counter.  They. probably. have. a. pen.”