The woman tilts her head to one side, giving a cute smile to the terrified Lyle and in a simple, chirpy tone, says “Yes.”

Lyle, behind the glass, had shrunk into the corner, his arms wrapped around his legs. He felt like he had a lump in his throat as he knew, there was nothing to stop the woman from choosing him. A tear streamed down his face as the waitress and the woman began to discuss what would happen to him.

The waitress had short, bright red hair and the complexion of a new born babe. She had delicate, pale lips and deep emerald eyes. She was an athletic woman with modest breasts and a figure that didn’t jut out. She was wearing the same god awful stereotypical French maid outfit all the waitresses wore. He could not make out the conversation, but his chest thumped a little softer as the woman made gestures outside and some forms were being filled in. It looked like that the woman didn’t want to eat him here, that he would be delivered some place. He gave a sniff and lifted his head in hope, he may have a chance to escape or better yet, the woman could be looking for a slave, he had heard it happened. Soon the woman left out of sight and he waited for the waitress to collect him. He trembled slightly, hoping that this was not the end, as the back of his little compartment swung open silently, the waitress waiting with a smile.