“I was expecting more plants,” Tooley said.

“Not that kind of garden,” Corey said, as he looked over the menu. His compatriots could not read the actual menus, written in English as they were, so it was his job to translate. Unsurprisingly, the local Olive Garden was not prepared to accommodate interstellar travelers.

Restaurant staff and fellow patrons alike were finding as many excuses as possible to trawl by the table and stare at the aliens. In the back of house, a very long and intense argument finally resolved, and a single server stepped up to the table.

“Hi, I’m Kyle, I’ll be your server for today,” he said. He tapped himself behind the ear before going any further. “And I am all chipped up, so no need to route everything through Corey.”

“Oh, great, the waiter is braver than the chief of police,” Kamak grunted.

“I’ve got some relatives who speak Spanish, makes family reunions easier,” Kyle said. “Anyway, can I get you started with some drinks?”

“Just water, for now,” Corey said. The complicated world of soda could wait until later. The last thing he needed to do was introduce Kamak and Tooley to the Coke vs Pepsi debate.

“And vodka,” Kamak said.

“We, uh, we don’t have vodka,” Kyle said. “It’s just wine and beer.”

“Beer, then,” Kamak said.

“Got it,” Kyle said. He didn’t bother asking for brand preferences. “I take it you’ll need some time to figure out the menu?”

“I want this,” Bevo said, as she held up her menu and pointed to a picture of spaghetti and meatballs.

“I think I’ll try that as well,” To Vo said. It looked good in the pictures, at least.

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“Okay, so, just so you know, that’s pasta, it’s a sort of bread that-”

“We know what pasta is,” Tooley said.

“Oh, right, should’ve guessed he’d explain that to you.”

“No, we just also have pasta in space,” Tooley said. “Noodles aren’t a difficult concept.”

“Speaking of things we also have in space, I’ll have the steak,” Kamak said. “Medium rare.”

After confirming with Corey that chicken was a type of bird, both Tooley and Farsus ordered the chicken fettucine, and Corey himself went for the lasagna. After jotting down all the notes, Kyle turned to Doprel.

“Alright, and what about you, big man?”

“Oh I can’t eat any of this,” Doprel said. “Different biology. I’ll be fine, I ate back on the ship.”

“Got it. Do you drink water? Should I bring back a water for you?”

“Yes, I do drink water,” Doprel said. It was kind of hard to be a living thing and not drink water. Kyle made that final note and excused himself, returning moments later with one beer, several glasses of water, and a large pitcher which he placed in front of Doprel.

“I’ve got your food started, should be ready to go soon,” Kyle said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, will do,” Kamak said. He pulled the cap off his beer and took a swig as Kyle retreated, then looked to Farsus. “How is this random kid handling us better than any of the fucking diplomats?”

“As a service industry worker, he has no doubt seen stranger things than us,” Farsus said.

“I don’t know, Earth sounds pretty boring,” Kamak said. “Hey, Corvash.”

After a few seconds of waiting for a response, Kamak turned to find Corey doodling a chicken on a napkin, for educational purposes. Bevo seemed delighted by the tiny bird doodle, and To Vo was visibly taking mental notes, as always.

“It looks like this,” Corey said. “They’re about the size of my head and they don’t fly very well, but they taste good.”

“Are they tough to hunt?”

“We don’t hunt them, Bevo, we farm them,” Corey said. “They don’t exist in the wild.”

“Really? I figured from the talons they were little pack hunters, they look just like these vicious little bastards from my planet,” Bevo said. “Harmless on their own, but they’ll strip you to the bone in packs.”

“Corey wouldn’t have survived long on this planet with anything like that running around,” Tooley said.

“Corey’s very capable, they can’t be worse than the Horuk,” To Vo said.

“No, no, Tooley’s got a point,” Corey admitted.

Tooley allowed herself a smug chuckle, and Bevo’s attention turned to what animal the meatballs were made of. Corey began to draw a cow, and Kamak gave up and returned to his beer.

“Didn’t you have a question?”

“Let ‘em have their playtime,” Kamak grunted. “Maybe ask the waiter for some kids menus next time he comes around.”