You only go to Denny's when you're piss drunk and hopeless. Which is exactly what brought our dear Cronus to the local joint, crashing down into his booth and pulling out his phone with shaking hands. The clock read 2:17, or at least he believed it to, with several missed calls and unanswered texts. At least someone cared to know why he wasn't back yet. Thankfully, before Cronus could manage to text anyone in his quite inebriated state, he found a familiar face among patrons. "Porrim! Buddy, pal, chief! What are 'y doin' in a place like this?" He slurred, making his way to her table with a bit of difficulty. "I mean, the food? Food's decent all right, but man! The service is absolute crap! Don't even get me started on the state 'a this place..."
