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Yeah, that’s good! I’ll take yours.

The restaurant was crowded, the noise of babbling conversation almost as pervasive as the smell of grease. But even amid this clamor, it was hard not to notice the teenagers in a corner booth. Loud laughter spilled out from the trio of girls, echoing over the establishment. One leaned over, pounding on the table, almost tipping over her lemonade into the burgers and fries. Another, arms spread wide in the middle of a story, continued, “And then I said, ‘Oatmeal? Are you CRAZY?'” The third girl laughed so hard she almost fell over into the first.

Next paragraph: The assassin stood behind the man as he fell over, dead.