“This is highway robbery!” Karen spat, waving for Greg to come over. Greg approached, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Something wrong?” he asked, his tone ice-cold. Karen shoved the bill at him. “These charges are absurd! You can’t just tack on fees because you feel like it!”
Greg’s gaze remained steady. “Actually, ma’am, we can charge for disruption, broken glassware, and customizations. You couldn’t have expected to disrupt this restaurant for free.” His tone sharpened. “Feel free to settle up—or, if you prefer, you’re welcome to wait out on the highway.”