A day in Golden Saucer.

It was a fine day in the theme park. One would look at the sky and see not a cloud in sight. The sun shined down in brilliant rays of fire and yet not a bead of sweat fell in the slightest from a persons brow. One such man was sitting on a bench positioned with its front toward a bar. To his left was the arena, and to his right were a simple, yet high class restaurant. He had all his intentions of getting so drunk he couldn't stand, but the thought of attaining a challenger here of all places also gripped at his person. And yet he was supposed to be meeting someone here, whom probably wouldn't approve of him getting drunk, or getting into a massive brawl. And so he had to wait, although it was tempting to march over to that arena and raise hell.

He had been waiting for ten minutes, so it's only imaginable that a brawler like himself would be wanting to stop sitting around. Both his arms were behind the back of the bench, and his left leg's shin was crossed over his right, forming a 'T' shape. Muscles could be seen through a white open collared shirt with floral designs around the back, and the European flag insignia on both his shoulders. Both fists were gloves with blue pieces of leather, with spiky metal pieces forming a horizontal line across the back of his knuckle. Red leather pants coated his legs, as did black dress shoes on both his feet. He certainly seemed somewhat like he belonged in a ring, regarding what he wore.

The man could not help but wonder what would be the long wait. Perhaps his partner had gotten lost somewhere? If that were the case here, they'd both be in for a long wait. Him, waiting for her to turn up for hours. He shuddered the thought away. His head tilted back against the metal, staring at the endless blue which stretched overhead for impossible lengths. His left fist gripped at the air in vain attempt at grabbing the empty space. He looked about one more time to check if his friend had made her appearance, only to find a horde of people marching here and there, hoping to find some entertainment in this outstanding theme park.

"I wonder what could be the wait..... Maybe she got stuck in some sort of crowd?"

Of course the man would be angry if that were true. After all, showing up here was not quite his idea, but the leader of the theme park's idea instead. He was, of course, best friends with this fellow. Even had a sparring match against him a while back. At least that gave him something to talk about whenever his friend showed up.

The Brit gave one look to the person he had came here to meet, and let out one simple smile. Sure, he had wanted a lot to visit that arena and have a brawl or two.... But there were far more important things that he needed to be doing. Not that long ago he had planned this trip for them. It had gone through one delay after another as he had no decision on what to wear, he eventually decided to slip into his most formal attire and head out. He had gave her a call on a weak signaled phone before making the arrangements. They both agreed they would meet here, after all, this was the plan all along. He just didn't anticipate he would have to skip out on any duels, is all.

"Nah, it's alright. I myself am just a tidbit sore about the arena being open to all and I can't really get in. Surely there are some good eatin' places around these parts, eh?"

He directed his attention to the store he had previously held to his right, finding the place near empty with plenty of seats available for the taking. He stood from his post before announcing this to his now companion, motioning over towards the seats which angled toward the circular tables. Chefs making, creating, inventing spices to be ever ready for whatever their customers desired. A nearby sign pointing in this marvelous spectacles direction with the words "psychic Chefs ahead. Go here for a good eatin'!" intrigued the British fellow.

"Perhaps we can give these few blokes a chance?"

He extended his hand, anticipating it to be taken by his companion. It would possibly appear odd, seeing such a giant man asking for the favor of somebody much smaller than him. They would only shrug this thought away as the delightful smells of foods of several kinds entered their nostrils, carried only by the patrons with which their jobs belonged with. The delighted cheers of those with stomachs full conversing with their own partners spread out here and there on different locations filled the environment accompanied by the rush hour.

In a single moment, he felt the tap of a hand on his shoulder. He turned about and noticed one of the patrons of the Restaurant, smile on their face and everything. The man motioned toward one of the tables, in fact, the very table Steve himself was preparing to sit down. It had two chairs, a perfect set for both of them. He shrugged in a sort of 'I suppose' fashion before looking over to his companion.

"What say you? I feel a bit like being served by Gypsies myself."

Yet by his words, the Patron did not at all seem offended. More like he knew exactly what the boxer was preparing to say. He had already taken off and prepared the napkins, folded within their cloth a spoon, fork, and knife. He even seemed ready to take their orders the moment they were to sit down.

"Shouldn't keep them waitin' much longer..."

He looked over to the girl with a smile on his face, needing an answer of course.