“You’re the one who wanted to do the ‘L.A. thing’.”
The place was called Suzette’s Crepes, which they both ordered. Ursula wanted hers lit up at their metal and plastic table. An extra twenty brought forth a small bottle of rum from the grizzled owner’s after hours cache. Charles played the waiter part, a thin paper napkin over his arm.
The food sure soaked up the rum. “Maybe a little more,” Charles said. He wanted to make sure the flames wouldn’t vanish just after they started.
Whoosh! The flames didn’t jump up, they leapt. Ursula gave a short scream. A small mushroom cloud floated upwards. The underside of the overhead metal umbrella turned as dark as the crepes. The owner arrived with a fire extinguisher and an equally dark expression. Charles tried to apologize but the man turned th
