You and your comrades quickly create a makeshift barricade with your table and duck onto the floor. You, of course, make sure to bring the food with you. You paid for it! Or, you were going to. Probably. Maybe.
They begin exchanging fire with the police, but the cops are closing in rapidly. Despite this, they seem to feel comfortable enough to be snacking. Low Life, for one, is shoving Funko Bites in his mouth.
<What is this, like some pizza bites shit? S’good.
Um, they’re actually Funko Bites, and they have a blend of artisinal goat cheese and in-house marinara-
<So they’s pizza bites.
Well, not exa-
<Pizza. Bites.
<It’s bites of pizza. Retard.
You go silent.
^Maaan, why I have to be a fuckin’ human table man? Thas messed up!
<You rather be a human shield, fatass? Shut the fuck up!
^Aight aight, sheesh!
^Mmm, these oreos is good.
<Oreos?? I thought you was just talkin’ ’bout your refined tastes n shit!
^Nothin’ wrong with oreos, son. They’s classic.
<Whatever.
Lil Doorknob takes a hesitant bite of his pulled pork, holding it in his hand like a snake. He immediately spits.
<ECH!
What, too spicy?
<Fuck you!!
C’mon, what are you doing?? You gotta focus on shooting!
Despite your words, you’ve grabbed some fried Oreos yourself. But you NEED to do it to lower your stress levels, so it’s different.
Yeah, I’s on it.
Jamal is locked in, firing intermittently. Low Life is as well, but you get the impression that he’s holding back out of desire not to lose his other arm.
Things are looking increasingly dire. If the cops cross the aisle, it’s game over.
What do you do?