"Hey grampa!" Binky called out. "Am I going to get another banana-split here, or do I have a word with the manager who's half your age?"

"Sorry sir," David mumbled. "I'll be right with you."

It was two weeks since the magazine business, and David had found another job working as a waiter at the Sugar Bowl, much to the delight of Arthur and his friends.

"Gee Arthur," said Muffy. "I thought you would have hated your dad changing jobs."

"Are you kidding?" Arthur laughed. "It's the best thing that's ever happened to me! I can be a complete asshole to the guy, and he can't do a thing to stop me! Here, watch this..." He took a sip from his strawberry milkshake. "Hey, you!"

David looked over.

"We got a spill over here!"

"Where?" he asked, walking over to Arthur's table.

"Right here!" Arthur slapped the glass from the table, causing the glass to shatter and the pink liquid to spread across the tiled floor. "Well, better get cleanin'." Arthur said with a smile.

At that moment, the store's acne-ridden manager, a power-hungry cat no older than twenty, came in from the kitchen. "Read!" he barked. "What the hell is going on here? I step out for two goddamn minutes, and you let the place turn into a pigsty? You can't slack off, Read, you'll have plenty of time for that when you're dead in a few years!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Makowski, sir," David pleaded, trying to shut out the laughter coming from his son and friends. "I was just going to clean it up now."

"Yeah, my ass you were, Read." he grumbled. "Get it done and then move on to the crappers. Someone really did a number in one of the stalls...phew..."

David gave a soft sob and went to fetch the mop and bucket.

"You're right, Arthur." The Brains laugh, wiping tears from his eyes. "That is funny. Did you guys see his gay little hat and apron!"

"The dickhead looked like he was going to cry!" Francine exclaimed.

Arthur chuckled. "You guys want another round? It's on me."

And so, a fun time was had by all at the Sugar Bowl. Well, all except David Read, who copped unimaginably damage to his self-esteem every horrible second that he worked there. As he scrubbed furiously at the toilets he wondered why, oh why, he didn't just hide his magazines when his wife asked him to.