"Please beat this thug up." Aectaeon said as he ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
But the pieces of food and beads of spite that rained down on his face made him stop. He slowly lowered the spoon down his plate. The man then took a sigh, trying to calm down, before wiping his face with a clean napkin.
While Aectaeon was doing his thing, Yulervan couldn't stop coughing. He pounded on his chest, scrambling to drink water to help him swallow his food.
Garant, on the other hand, had his mouth wide open. He looked at Aectaeon as if the man had already lost all sanity he had.
And lastly, there was the thug. If disappointment had a face, it would be what the thug was wearing right now. He didn't know where the Aectaeon's words came from. It was like a right hook in the cheek after taking an uppercut.
